Two Against the World
by user2986
Summary: Sansa left with the Hound at the Battle of Black Water and was never captured by the Brothers Without Banners. After the Red Wedding, Arya remains with the Brotherhood. This is a telling of the legend that became of the Bastard Knight and the wild Wolf Maid. Of two orphans against the world.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello. This story is my first Game of Thrones fanfiction and I am super excited for all to read. I have edited this chapter probably three times now, trying to make sure it was perfect. Let me know of any mistakes that need attended and also if anyone is looking for a story to beta I am looking for a Beta. :)**

 **The idea of this story if what if The Hound had escaped the Battle of Blackwater with Sansa? He would not have run into Arya and taken her from the Brothers without Banners. In this story, Khal Drogo has not died yet. Basically everything on the other side of the Narrow Sea is still going on, it is just slowed to leave for some more time. That will come into play more in the second story though, so no need to worry about what lies beyond the Narrow Sea at this time, I will explain when it is time I promise.**

 **So this is what I gather would have happened. Or could have I should say. There is quite a bit of gore and there will be mature themes as this progresses. I have a total of 3 fifteen to twenty chapter stories planned. They are set in Arcs.**

 **Chapter One: The Birth of the She Wolf**

 _Lord Beric_

The smell of the dead clung to the air and Arya voiced this to the three men taking her supposedly to be united with her family while they were being hosted by Walder Frey. "We're at war little Lady, it's bound to have a touch of death in the air around these parts. Nothing to be concerned with, soon enough you'll be returned to your Lady Mother, and that brother of yours, the King in the North. " The rest of their ride away from the clearing they had left to other Brothers in was silent.

As Arya rode with Lord Beric, sitting in front as an attempt to better control the wild child and her probable (likely) plan to escape before they reached her family, in attempt to save them the ransom that was to be demanded of the Starks for her safe return. She didn't make to escape though, instead sitting quietly, some what sourly, staring off into the forest that was much too quiet for her liking. As the small group rode she thought of Gendry and her time with him ending. She bit hard on the inside of her cheek to control her emotional reaction, the burning in her eyes that came with the thought of him wanting to remain with the Brotherhood instead of joining her on this last stretch to her family. She had thought that he would remain by her side through anything after all they had been through together, after two years together, but he just like Hot Pie before him had found their own way and it did not involve her.

She tried to push the image of his face from her mind when he told her that he would remain with the Brotherhood. He had looked sorry but resolute with his decision, and even when she argued that he was stupid she knew that it would not sway him. His mouth had been set in the way it always did when he was determined to keep to his word, no matter what. She hadn't spoken to him since.

The smell of death became thicker the closer the four came to their destination and the smell of smoke began to filter in as well. Lord Beric stopped his horse at the edge of the forest clearing and signaled for Anguy and Thoros to do so as well. "Something is wrong." It wasn't a question that fell from her lips but rather a statement. She could tell by the body language of her "escorts" and the smell that clung to the ever colder morning air, of death and fire and blood. It was more than that though, it was a feeling she had in the pit of her stomach, a deep feeling that felt _wrong_. She turned her gaze from Lord Beric and looked through the trees that gave them sparse coverage. "Where are the banner…" the wolf girl had begun until her eyes almost immediately were drawn to the top of the gates, where she saw the most horrific sight she had ever seen in her short and tormented life.

He was hanging limply, his body not yet stiff from death yet, even in the cold of the morning. She knew that meant he had not died long ago, mere hours before. He could even still be warm to the touch. His body was mutilated, arrows and daggers sticking out of him here and there, and head missing, in it's place was Greywinds fierce, snarling jaws, crudely stitched upon her eldest brother's body. She didn't ask where his head was, most likely sent to Joffrey on a silver platter. Too late Lord Beric realized what the child was staring at her fallen brother and moved to shield her from the sight, but when he lifted his arms to hard turn his mount away from the battlements and back into the forest she swung her leg faster than he'd ever seen and had toppled off the horse, running full blast toward her fallen brothers disgraced corpse.

"Damn it, the girl" Without thought Beric tore after her, spurning his horse hard toward the now feral child. Beric caught up to her quicker than he had hoped, but only because she had ran into a pair of guard patrolling the forest outskirts, not paying attention to their surroundings. Before Lord Beric was able to register what was happening one of the guards was dead and the other was being slashed at violently, with lightening quick little hands fueled by pure hatred. By the time Beric reached down and wrapped an arm around the viscous urchin the second Bolton guard was on his way to dying, with a number of deep weeping wounds about his person.

He threw Arya across the front of his horse, wrenching the dagger, _his_ dagger she had somehow gotten as she dismounted the steed, and setting off at full gallop for the woods, thankful the girl had been efficient enough in her blind rage to kill the men quick enough as to not alert the surrounding sentries. As they barreled into the forest Thoros and Anguy fell in behind, not a word needing to be said. They saw what had happened, they saw the King in the North strung up like a tapestry for all to see, his head replaced with that of his direwolf as one last insult. They saw the little lady damn near get herself strung up there with him, or worse. Lord Beric couldn't blame the child for her violent reactions, in the short time he had known her, he could see that she was volatile and short tempered. This was exactly the reaction that should have been expected, reckless and violent. But of course, he hadn't expected for her family to be murdered under guest right's either.

She kicked and cursed the whole time, wriggling relentlessly to try and break his grip on her arms he had behind her back using one hand to hold her at the elbows. She was a small girl, and under fed as well, so it wasn't as if he had much trouble restraining her, but the cries she let out, like a wounded animal fighting to free itself from a snare, pierced at his heart. She was a wounded pup, orphaned now and without a pack to protect her. She was the last known living Stark. The last of perhaps the oldest great house in Westeros.

There were rumors that Lady Sansa had escaped King's Landing during the Battle of Blackwater Bay, running off with none other than the dog of the boy king Joffrey, Ser Sandor Clegane. Lord Beric thought it far more likely that the Lady had been kidnapped by the Hound when he was fed up with serving a pretentious little twat of a king. So, it was really a coin toss as to whether the fairer sister still lived. All that was truly known of the girl is the last time she was seen was before the battle of Blackwater.

Arya though, was alive, and fierce as ever. She was the last known living Stark and thus the heiress of Winterfell, rightful Queen in the North.

Not that it mattered though. All the Stark bannermen were dead, she had no armies to command, no allies to call upon. All was lost with the loss of her brother and Lady mother. This girl was now just as any other child who had lost everything to the wars of this land, alone. She had nowhere and no one to go to or call upon to defend her, protect her or care for her in any way. It was no wonder why she howled and screamed as she did, like her heart was being ripped viciously from her chest. Unfortunately, they couldn't have the commotions, not with enemy forces so close they may very well hear the little Princess's cries and come to see what banshee haunts these woods. So, without a second thought, Beric took the dagger he had confiscated back from Arya and with the hilt of the dagger came down on the back of her heard, effectively silencing her for at least a little while.

It was not long after that Beric, Anguy and Thoros charged into the clearing they had left the rest of their party. With few words he commanded that they return to Hallow Hill immediately and would discuss further upon arrival. No one argued and everyone mounted their horses and followed. Lord Beric noticed the look on young Gendry's face as he saw the little Arya, covered in blood and haphazardly slung over a horse, looking dead to the young and untrained eye. To the boys merit he said nothing, only did as he was told and mounted quickly and followed as best he could, being fairly new to riding. The look of concern never leaving his face as he bounced painfully on his horse, spurring it as fast as it could without being able to manage the ride himself smoothly.

The ride took nearly two hours and was without a doubt exhausting as they did not slow down as much as their horses would allow. The entire time Lord Beric thought of the realm and the impact this shift in power would make, _There must always be a Stark in Winterfell_ , he thought to himself, knowing it was a common saying amongst the Northerners he had known throughout his many lives. Who would seize power in the North now? The Bolton bannermen had been the one's to be scouring the forest perimeter but it was the Frey banners that decorated the castle. If he were to wager, it would be the Boltons over the Frey to seize control, as they were more powerful. But he didn't know if this had been a strict mutiny or if the powers that be in King's Landing had made for this to happen.

Lord Beric supposed it mattered little to him as nothing really changed. He would continue to fight the Lannisters at every turn, and any Lannister allies he may find. He would continue to protect the small folk of the realm just as he had been before another player fell from the game of thrones.

Upon their arrival at the Brothers hideaway Gendry was at Lord Beric's side within a breath, gently pulling the little thing down from the tired horse and into his probably sore and shaken frame from the ride. His tired muscles barely seemed to feel her weight though as she was so small compared the the strapping young smith cradling her in his arms. "Come inside, we must speak of what has happened."

"I don't see any injuries, where is she bleeding from?" Gendry asked helplessly as he followed Lord Beric's quick footfalls seamlessly. His voice was tight and cracked a little, reminding one just how young this bull of a boy actually was, only six and ten years. It was commonly known that the orphan teen had a soft spot for the little Lady he had been responsible for close to a year before they had been found and he took her care seriously. He must have been shaken seeing her this way.

"Don't worry lad." It was Anguy who spoke up as he moved in step with him, both following closely into the cave. "Ain't a lick of that blood is that little she wolf's. After she seen what they did to her brother she killed two guards before Lord Beric pulled her back and escaped into the forest. So don't worry yourself so lad. Physically she is right as rain."

"Then why is she knocked out? What happened?" Gendry asked as they made it to the inner room of the cave and made to lay her gently by the fire on a pile of this blankets. He knelt swiftly beside her and did his own little check over her, to be sure she had no injuries. The only thing he found was a large lump beging to form on the back of her head. Suddenly it became clear what had happened. He looked up at Lord Beric not truly angry but obviously upset it had come to that with little Arry.

"It had to be done lad, she wouldn't be quiet and had already caused a commotion. We had to get away as quietly as possible and she had no sense about her at the time." Lord Beric felt himself explaining to the young lad, obviously sick with worry and guilt. No doubt he blamed himself for not going with Arya for the condition she was currently in, but he would have had no sway on the animal that took hold of her soul when she saw her brother.

It was then Beric explained the death of the King in the North and the seeming betrayal by both house Frey and Bolton. He told the men of her brother, strung up for all to see, the head of a wolf grotesquely sewn to replace the one they had taken from him. The smell of so many dead permeated the air and left the land feeling ominous and unclean. When the tale was well and done there was only one question that needed to be answered.

"What are you going to do with Arya if there is no one left to pay her ransom?" Gendry asked, sitting stiffly next to the young girl who looked so broken there vulnerable on the ground.

Indeed, what were they to do with her? There was no place for a Lady let alone one so tiny among his band of merry men. If anything she would only get underfoot, a liability in these times of war. They couldn't just leave her though, not a game piece as valuable as her. she held no power in the North at this time, while she was but a small girl. One day though, She would be seen as the rightful liege Lady of the North, granted the elder Sansa wasn't still alive and well, and the banners may come when called, after sometime under the unjust rule of either the Boltons or the Freys.

He rubbed the bridge between his eyes, fighting off the steady ache mounting there. What to do with the girl indeed. She may very well be more trouble than she was worth. Keeping his thoughts to himself and said simply as he sat down on the stone floor, happily accepting the wine from Thoros, "There is nothing that can be decided tonight. Get some rest, I will take council with Thoros and we will decide what must be done."

It was then a resounding and off putting howl broke the silence of their group, its keys strong, fierce and powerful. It seemed to go on and on, and even in it's sadness, there was an undeniable rage below, promising retribution. _The North will remember_.

 **xoxoxox**

 _Gendry_

He looked down at the little thing curled into him as he tried to find sleep rather than staying awake endlessly worrying of what had happened to her. He had heard Lord Beric telling of what happened, but he wanted to know from her what had happened. He had done his best to clean the blood from her hands and face, little droplets speckling most of her free skin. Anguy had said that she had killed two men, and it didn't surprise him. He had seen her kill before, and now, he imagined he would see her kill again. _If she is allowed to stay…_

It was a hopeful thought, though not very likely. He didn't see Lord Beric allowing her to remain with a group of outlaws, it wouldn't be proper or safe for a Lady of her status. _But she wouldn't care. And where else could she go?_ If what Lord Beric had said was right then the last bit of family she had was gone, stolen from possible mutineers. Nothing remained of her house except for her. She was alone.

Suddenly, realization hit him harder than a bag of bricks. She was an orphan, just like him. She and he both had no one to care about them as the Winter came barreling toward them. Her home had been taken from her, her family, her life as she had known it, it was all gone.

 _But we're still not the same. She's still a Lady._ Gendry thought, quickly catching himself as he began to hope. She was still nobility, of high birth and status, born to one of the great houses, and he was a bastard born in Flea Bottom to a tavern wench. He was nothing and she was still so valuable. If some other house were to get a hold of her and force a marriage they would have stake to claim her ancestral home for themselves. He knew she would rather die than let anyone use her as a player in the game. She hated to whole lot of it too much to be involved.

He suddenly let himself find a little peace as he looked down at the girl, still not yet woken from the strike she had received to silence her. He could only imagine the commotion she had made before being knocked out. Kicking, screaming, biting, were all things he could imagine her doing to get past them to attempt and fail to exact her revenge single handed. She probably didn't even have words, was probably just yelling things without meaning, primal noises. That's what always seemed to happen when she saw red. She looked so young when she slept, closer to the one and ten that she actually was, without the hard marks that their lives caused them. Her hair was getting longer, it fell to just below her jaw and was starting to wave. He imagined it would continue to do so as it got longer. She was so thin, such a small little thing. He often felt she was too thin, all knobby knees and elbows. He did what he could, giving her larger shares of the rations they'd had before the Brotherhood had found them, and she certainly took matters into her own hands (he remembered the worms she'd eaten and nearly gagged), but no matter what she stayed thin as a rail.

Suddenly, her quiet voice began murmuring and Gendry leaned in a little farther to better hear what she was saying. "Cersei…. Joffrey… Ilyn Payne, Meryn Trant, The Hound, The Mountain, Tywin Lannister, Walder Frey…." She trailed off, her breathing uneven and her eyes fluttering behind her closed lids. He hated her list. He knew she was obsessed with vengeance for her family, for all the wrongs done to her and those she cared for, she said the little prayer every night and apparently she said it in her sleep as well. He brushed a hand over her forehead, brushing her hair off her face gently, trying to comfort her in some way from the events she had to witness today. He felt so guilty, so at fault. He should have stayed with her. He should have gone with her to the castle, made sure she made it to her mother. He would have known she would bolt when he saw what had happened, he would have known to hold her a little tighter to keep her from running after the stray sentries. He would have comforted her, quieted her as he always had when she was lost in grief, or anger, rather than being brutally knocked unconscious.

It was in that moment, staring at the young Lady's face, silent tears beginning to stream from her tightly closed eyes, that Gendry decided he would never let something happen to her again. She was his now and he was hers. Neither had a family so they would be their own family. He would look after her and she him, if she would forgive him. Really, nothing would change. As he drifted off to sleep, his arm encircling her little body and holding her to him, protecting her from the world with his already large form. He finally found sleep as he wondered how he would make it known to her that she would not leave him ever again.

 **xoxoxox**

 _Thoros_

The fire priest took another long swig of the wine that was left in his sheep skin as he leaned back against a rock, staring and the two children huddled together on the other side of the fire. He was trying to process all the happenings of the day, and the problem they were currently stuck with, the Lady (or should he say Princess?) Arya Stark. He felt a tight aching taking form between his brows. The girl was most certainly a pain in the arse.

The girl was as dangerous as his fire and he had no doubt she would be just as beautiful, someday sooner rather than later. She resembled her late Aunt too much to not become a Northern beauty, harsh and intense. She was more wild than her Aunt had been, Lyanna would at least dawn a dress and act as a Lady when necessary from what he had seen of the woman. This skinny little urchin was more animal than human it seemed most of the time, all snarls and bite. Thoros took another healthy swig from his skin and thought mayhaps it was because of her recent years. She couldn't be more than one and ten, and from the looks of her she had been on the run a long time, starving, scrounging and fighting just to live. She was something akin to a feral dog, savage from circumstance and not from nature.

Thoros eyes drifted to the man-child with the she wolf. One look at how the bastard practically surrounded the little thing with his body told Thoros that they would not be able to dump her off anywhere, not without a scene that would draw undue attentions. If she were going to leave them it would have to be for an actual haven where she could find sanctuary. It looked as if the bastard had taken personal responsibility for the well being of the child lady now that she too was orphaned. Kindred spirits as it were, already fueled by their like of each other. Their ridiculously intense loyalty toward one another had only been tried when the boy thought her better with her mother and brother. Now that she had no one he knew that the bull would never leave her.

Yes the little she wolf would always be safe with her pet bull to protect her.

As Thoros looked across the fire as both children shifted slightly ending in Gendry laying on his back with an arm tucked around Arya's waist and she lay her head on his already broad chest. It was in this particular angle that Thoros felt as though he had been thrown back in time. His breath caught in his throat as he took in the two bathed in the light of the fire, her with her Stark features and the boy looking like a Stag warrior, protecting what was his. He thought he was looking upon the faces of Lyanna Stark and Robert Baratheon. With a shake of his head and another swig of wine he shook the ghosts of the past from his mind.

"It's the spitting image of the woman and the man who started the last great war, isn't it old friend?" Came the ever calm voice of Lord Beric. He reached out to Thoros and without having to ask, Thoros handed him the sheep skin of wine. He took a deep swig of the liquid and wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve. "She really does look the image of her Aunt Lyanna. And he resembles that old war monger King beyond belief, like looking at a scene from the past."

Thoros laughed. "Aye, I had seen the girl's resemblance to her Aunt but had not noticed the boys look until now. He always keeps his bloody face to the ground. Could be one of the man's bastards for all we know, word around the kingdoms is he had at least fifty with how he enjoyed a good whore." A brooding silence followed his off hand remark and Thoros wasn't sure if he was thinking of Gendry as the late King's bastard or about their current Stark problem.

"What do you think should be done about the girl?" Lord Beric asked Thoros seriously now, needing his most trusted counsel on the matter. He was at a loss. He wanted her safe but he also did not believe she should be traveling with them, too dangerous of a bargaining chip to have gallivanting around the Seven Kingdoms.

Thoros didn't know how to answer. He didn't know what was right. Instead he let eyes loose focus from the two figures he'd been watching through the flames. He let his mind go blank and opened his heart to the voice he prayed for answers from. He knew Beric was understanding of the prolonged silence, probably understanding he was welcoming the Lord of Light's guidance on this particular problem. Without warning the flames of the fire seems to take shape, swirling and twirling together until they created an image that only he was privy to.

A wolf stood before a stag the size of a bull, it's antlers raised high and proud. There the wolf guarded the stag, biting and snarling at any enemies that came toward the stag. First the wolf fought a lion as it lunged for the stag, claws spread wide as it swiped at the stag, but the wolf would have none of it. The giant wolf attacked the lion with a ferocious snarl. The lion fell in a bloody mess.

As quick as the image was there it was gone and Thoros was left blinking at the flames that seemed to have lost their magic. With a sigh he put together his interpretation of the vision. "Shield her. Protect her. Defend her and she'll got to war for him as no one else will. She will turn this pain into power and the only one who will be able to reign in her fury is the boy." Thoros said simply. "There is a destiny in these two Beric, and I believe it is in our destiny to keep them close."

Lord Beric seemed to ponder this a moment before looking back and the fire priest, something in his eyes that hadn't been there in sometime now, hope. "They could start another rebellion, looking as they do, so much the King and his would be Queen. A symbol for the people to stand behind." He said, his voice sounding far off, as if his mind was too preoccupied to be fully present.

Thoros nodded, understanding where Beric was thinking. "You mean to make him like Robert's ghost returned, to take back his kingdom from the Lannister scum. He is only a boy, and a base born as well Beric. You aim too high."

Beric nodded, "Aye, I aim to end this incestious lots hold over the kingdom once and for all. And base born or not, who would not believe him the true born son of Robert? He is good in his heart and cares for people, as he cares for the girl. Everything he needs to know, he will learn. We can teach him to fight, to plan, to deal with the masses. We can make this kingdom right again. Put, if not a legitimate Baratheon on the throne, than at least a true born son of the late King."

"You're sense of justice will get you killed. You know that?" Thoros teased lightly, offering the one eyed man another drink from his skin. His friend took a long gulp and settled back against the rock wall of the cave. "And you've already got the one day Queen of the North to legitimize him as well as possibly unite the Kingdoms again one day. Seems you've planned this out well."

Beric shook his head. "No, I dare not attempt to control the girl. She is like a wild thing. We cannot predict her movements, her feelings or what she may end up."

"But it is obvious she cares for the boy." Thoros replied.

"She _had_ cared for him, before he decided to remain with The Brothers. She has not since seen him and though he did leave her for the right reasons, she only sees it as betrayal. We can't hope to predict what the girl will do." Beric said pointedly. The girl was like something primal and ancient, at least she had been when he had seen her today. She had been like the sigil of her house, a wolf, uncontrollable and insatiable in her thirst for blood and vengeance.

Thoros didn't share his friends same worries of the girl. No he had seen in the flames that she would always protect him. She was fierce and would fight tooth and nail for what was hers. She would be loyal to him and with her help and her name, she may be able to turn the Flea Bottom bastard boy into the King of the Seven Kingdoms.

 **A/N: Expect updates bi-monthly. :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: So I didn't mean for this to be a two part chapter but it is already at 5,000 words and I am trying to stick with 5,000 per chapter, and it is looking as if I will be needing another 5,000 to finish it out so yeah…. Gotta split it up. Also, I was feeling pretty generous so this is earlier than I intended releasing it. :)**

 **Thank you for the favorites, follows and reviews. They are much appreciated and very motivating. Hopefully things will continue. *This* whole story is planned (this arc) so there should be no interruptions in the updates. I am ahead a few chapters in writing as well so the schedule should be every two weeks you get a new chapter. Now I have already made a few changes to the original outline and they are reflected in what you are reading. Maybe one day I will post the original but until then please enjoy!**

 **Also, I realize there are mistakes in this work, as I am only human. I am still looking for a beta for this story if anyone is interested. :)**

 **Chapter Two: Big Brothers and Little Sister Part One**

 _Gendry_

When he awoke sometime before dawn, in the wee hours of the morning, he nearly lost himself as he discovered the little Lady of the North was no longer nestled tightly in his arms. Mind and heart racing, he quickly stood from his spot by the dying fire and began looking for the girl. Could she have been stolen, spirited away by some unknown intruder to take to the Lannisters? That wouldn't be likely in a cave full of Brothers, some still awake even in the late hour and lazily lying about. No, it was more likely she had woken and snuck away, quiet as a shadow, quick as a snake. He wasn't certain, all he knew was he had to try and find her.

He scoured the cave, looking in every tiny alcove he came upon, thinking perhaps she merely was hiding. Maybe she needed time on her own, to process what had happened to her just some hours ago. To grieve the loss she suffered. Yes, it was also likely that she had hid herself away from the world for just this, never wanting anyone to see her while she was weak, but he would be lying if he said he didn't wish that she wanted to be alone with him. He couldn't explain the feeling and chalked it up to protectiveness.

Finally, he came to the mouth of the cave and a familiar form was present in the bright light of the full moon. He watched her a moment before realising what she was doing, her water dancing with a long stick in place of her lost Needle. She held a grace while working through each stance that he rarely saw in her throughout the day, almost as if she chose to hide it. As she twirled and dipped too and fro, looking like a graceful performer, she whispered her dark prayer.

"Joffery, Cersie, Polliver, Ser Armoury Lorch, Walder Frey, Meryn Trant, Tywin Lannister, Ser Illyan Payne, The Mountain, The Hound." Each word was punctuated with what looked to be a fierce and deadly strike against her imaginary opponent. She said her prayer of death and justice again and again, continue with different movements through the whole thing. The bull had no doubt that she imagined the name she was sayings death with each practiced strike. Finally, after three or four prayers, he moved forward, making sure she would see him as he approached, not wanting to frighten her and get struck with the stick.

The moon was so bright in the sky he could see her eyes, hard as steel in it's light. After reaching her there was a short silence before Gendry asked some what awkwardly, "How's ye' head?" He didn't want to ask her if she was okay. He knew she wasn't, she wouldn't be for a long time yet. He knew she held her family her family more dear than anything, even breath itself, and now she was alone. _Not alone_. He decided firmly.

The girl was almost grateful looking at his choice of words. She didn't want to talk about everything yet and with this choice of words, she didn't have to. "I have blood caked in my hair and my head is aching." Arya griped her voice cracking, not hiding the bitterness she felt. Her head pounded from the blow Lord Beric had given her after the ordeal with the guards and she was still a bit woozy, not that she would tell him that.

Gendry nodded and reached out, taking her hand gently in his own. He tugged lightly on her hand and said, "Come on then, we'll go to the creek and I'll rinse your hair." He could see that she was in physical pain and her eyes didn't quite look right now that he was up close to them. Them seemed distant and far off. _Probably from the blow_. He thought angrily, mad that Lord Beric wouldn't hold restraint with someone as small as Arya. Yes she was a handful, but if he was able to keep her in check without causing damage surely the knight would have been able to?

She looked at him questioningly. "What do you know of washing a girl's hair?" She spoke barely above a whisper and sounded almost as if she were accusing him of something but he had no idea what that might be.

With a shrug he answered simply, not wanting to argue, "Used to always help mi' mum with her hair, but she had a lot more than you do."

It was when he said this that Arya remembered, if anyone could come close to understanding how she felt it was Gendry. He had lost his mother when he was just a bit younger than she was now. He had once lost everything as well, though he hadn't had quite as much as she had to start with. She followed him without further argument, instead thinking on her new circumstances. She was crippled with the grief she felt. Her heart ached, feeling as though it had been stabbed by a blade of ice. She felt nearly suffocated by the lump that had taken up residence in the base of her throat. She did not believe she could speak even if she tried and it seemed that Gendry understood all of that without having to say a word.

He didn't say anything, instead just leading her to the small creek near the cave they were camped at. Once at the edge of the cold water he knelt down and she silently followed. With his large calloused hands, more gently than she had thought possible, he guided her to sit down and lay back to the point where her head and neck were in the water, supported by the other hand.

With one hand on the back of her neck, the other gently worked the water into the short dark strands. Carefully he untangled the matted mess, washing out the blood and dirt, letting it wash away with the slow current of the creek. He hummed quietly while he worked and Arya said nothing to disrupt the silence. She was lost in the feeling of the cold water and his hard hands. The movements reminded her of something her mother had done for her before, working out the tangles of her hair in a bath after she had hurt herself in some crazy way. The moments after already being scolded and then being comforted by her mother for the pain she was in, with gentle hands working away her troubles. The water was not warm as it had been then, and Gendry's hands were not as soft as her mother's had been but they were just as gentle.

When the task was done he lifted her gently, cradling the back of her neck, and squeezing the excess water from her growing hair. He didn't want her clothes getting soaked in the crisp morning air for fear that it may freeze her tiny self. To him the girl looked lost, her grey eyes wide and hard, her young face looking thin and down trodden. She was always upbeat, even when they were starving. Now though she looked tired. She sat in silence, as if trying to understand what had happened, trying to figure out what she was to do now. She didn't know where to go, what she would do, where she might even be welcome. As an enemy of the Lannisters, no where in the seven kingdoms was truly safe.

"I'm here for you Arya." He heard himself voice without remember wanting too. He sounded too loud in the quiet of the morning, no sounds around them save the gently running water next to them.

He heard her scoff and he turned to her quickly. He saw the anger burning in her steely eyes. "Yes, you're here for me alright. Until that is, Lord Beric decides who it is he will sell me to next, in order to further fund his _nobel_ cause. Then I'll be gone again and you will be happy with your _brothers_." He would never understand how someone so small could be so bitter, but then he had met few men who had experienced as much pain as the little wolf girl. _Orphan girl_ , he reminded himself.

He didn't let her words bother him, he knew that she was saying them out of pain and not from her heart. He knew she was hurt when he decided the stay with the Brothers instead of going with her to her family, but she was also very young and naive in many ways as well. "It is different now Arry." He said simply, trying to spare her feelings with as few words as possible. He would rather her be mad at him than remember that she now had no family left.

Her eyes narrowed further. "Yes, it is different. No one is left to pay my ransom. Off to the Lannisters I imagine, or perhaps a brothel. That's the only way they'll earn anything from me now." She spat with distaste. She didn't plan on sticking around to find out what they planned to do with the destitute girl. No, she was no one's pawn, to be traded or sold. She was a wolf.

It was then he abruptly grabbed her by her shoulders. His blue eyes bore into her grey ones and she saw so much emotion there it nearly made her hold her breath. "I will never let that happen to you Arya. I told you it is different and that is because it is. You and I, we're the same, we're both orphans, with no one." he said softly. He didn't want to remind her of her circumstances but he needed her to understand him entirely. The hard mask she always wore began to crumble at the mention of the events the past day. She was biting her lip to hold back tears. Rather than watching her mask of indifference fall apart he pulled her to his chest and let her hide her face there, where no one would see, knowing it was important to her not be seen as weak, though no one would dare say she was. He let her cry there, silent sobs wracking her little frame from the effort of holding back. _Too thin_. He thought as he rubbed small circles on her back, feeling the bones in her spine sticking out.

After some time she had settled, her breathing becoming even again and her body no longer shaking from emotion. It was then he took her chin in his hand and bent low, the two were eye to eye, breath to breath. "You said before, that you would be my family. Well, the reason that I chose to stay with the Brothers is because I knew that your mother and brother would never let us be family. Don't say they would have, because now it matters not." He said quickly, cutting off the argument he saw brewing behind her eyes. She had to understand that he needed her just as she needed him. "Now though, we really can be family." He finished sounding sad and hopeful and so very, very young.

It was silent again for a brief while, just the sound of his heart beat pounding in his ears and her breath in the cool air. Finally, she spoke, sounding younger than he had ever heard, reminding him the girl was little more than a child at only ten and one. "You can not leave me if we're family. We have to look after eachother." She said firmly, her tone harsh but quaking with unshed tears. She wanted him to understand, needed him to understand what he was saying, what he was offering her. If he chose to be a part of her pack he could not leave. She didn't know what would happened if she lost another person. She already didn't feel like herself and one more loss may be enough to put her over the edge.

He nodded to show his understanding. He wouldn't meet her eye and she knew something was troubling him. "Arry," He began, not making her wait long to see what was wrong. "I don't know how to be someone's family, so you'll have to be patient if I do something wrong. I only had me mum for a short time before the Stranger came for her."

She smiled. "I will teach you what it means to be a family, what it really means Gendry. I promise."

And with that the two children joined hands, swearing themselves to each other as family, be what may. For all of time.

xoxoxoxox

 _Anguy_

Everyone at Hollow Hill seemed to be awake now, gathered around fires and breaking their fast, heartily eating their morning rations. The two children came out of the woods and Anguy let out a sigh of relief as he plopped down in his spot, no longer needed to hunt the two urchins down. The little Lady and her pet walked over to the entrance of the cave, hand in hand. He hadn't remembered them ever holding hands before but then the child had a traumatic day. The archer had thought the the little beast had woken in the middle of the night and convinced her pet to run away with her, back to the Frey's to try and exact her vengeance. Thankfully she had not and was now being led by the Bull to get their morning rations.

As the two came up to him he simply said, without initial greeting, "Lord Beric wants to see the both of you, now." They just looked at him and he knew they wouldn't go straight to the man.

The lanky man sighed and stood slowly, stretching toward the sky. "I best take you then. Come on." He didn't say anything about the girls red rimmed eyes or the comfort she took from the boy's hand in her own. Teasing was all well and good, and she was definitely a fun one to tease, but he knew there was no place for that now.

The two followed behind Anguy without argument, still silent and still holding hands. It didn't take long to find the leader of the Brotherhood without Banners, at the very center of the main chamber, sitting with Thoros in a seemingly deep discussion. At the entrance of the two children both the red priest and Lord Beric looked up and eyed the children. "Where did you find them so quickly Anguy?" Beric asked as he took the two in, hand in hand and seemingly (more obviously) united.

Anguy shrugged and answered truthfully, "I didn't even have to go looking. They came strolling into camp just as I had grabbed my bow."

Thoros chuckled lightly and addressed the two children with mischief glinting in his eyes. "We thought you may have run off wild little she wolf, and stolen Gendry away with you."

Arya held her head high and announced clearly and loudly, "I am not running off as I haven't anywhere to go." No tears were in her eyes, no tremor in her tone. Anguy would have to tip his hat (if he had one) to the child's control, especially for one so young. The only thing that gave away any pain she was in at her own words was the white knuckle grip on her Bulls hand.

"So it is. Lord Beric and I were just discussing what is to be done with you. We're trying to decide what would be best little Lady." His tone was airy and light even though they spoke of Aryas fate and it made her blood boil in her anger.

She was not something that they could decide what to be done with, she was a person, and now that she had no parents, she was in charge of herself. She rolled her eyes at his mention of her title. "What good are titles now? I am no one now. A no one with nothing. That all being said, I wish to remain with Gendry and if that means joining your Brotherhood than I suppose that is that."

Thoros laughed heartily at her statement, and Anguy himself chuckled at the little one's bold proclamation. Anguy saw the little squeeze of encouragement that Gendry gave her hand from beside her. "We are a Brotherhood, not a sister amongst us." Thoros said cheekily, grinning like a cat with the cream.

"Make an acception." she said as if it was that simple. But wasn't it, really that simple? It seems she had anticipated the retort by Thoros because she had more to say, "Or I can continue to dress as a boy. I will anyway."

Thoros laughed at her matter-of-fact statement. "Little Lady's are not made for battle."

The girls eyes turned to steel and she said in a tone laced with ice, "I've killed more than some of your greener boys, and I know more than them as well. I am a fighter." Anguy fought back a gulp as she said this. He believed she had killed, and he believed she would kill a hell of a lot more before the Stranger came for her. Yes, the girl though small was dangerous, more so than the boy she kept company with for certain.

"A fighter without a blade? We haven't a sword amongst us that you could wield being as small as you are." Anguy added jokingly, seeing the direction that Thoros was taking this conversation.

Gendry jumped to at the mention of a sword, speaking up for the first time throughout the whole conversation. "I can make her a sword she can wield, and armor as well. Lord Beric, she is a fighter. She has saved my life more times than I can remember. Arya is the one who planned the escape from Harrenhal and without her I believe I would have been dead even before then." He turned to look at the girl he spoke of and the love he felt for her shone through in his eyes. Yes, she didn't know it was there, and mayhaps even he was not aware of it, but Anguy saw it. The regard he held the young girl in was fully pronounced in the simple statement. Gendry was an up front and honest young man, and he was good. He was so good, Anguy believed it was his goodness that would one day get him killed. The bull boy truly believed that he owed his life to the little urchin that was supposed to be a lady.

All eyes turned to Lord Beric, who through all of this had remained silent. They knew that he would make the final decision on the matter and what he decided would not be able to be argued. He was the only one with the power to grant Arya leave to stay with the Brotherhood, with her Bull and out of the fray of the game.

Without warning the one eyed man stood and fixed the girl with a stare. "Stay a moment with me Lady Arya, we shall discuss some matters of importance. Anguy, if you wouldn't mind keeping Gendry preoccupied for a short time." At the mention of being separated both children looked panic stricken. It seemed that the loss of her family had left the Bull of a boy thinking himself even more her caretaker than before. That would be a problem.

"No harm will befall her Gendry and she will return to you in short time. But there are certain matters that Lady Arya needs to understand before any decision is made." Lord Beric said calmly, pleading with the rational boy. "You have my word as a knight."

That seemed to satisfy the boy but still he looked to Arya for his answer. After a moment she looked to Gendry and nodded her head, accepting what Lord Beric had said. Anguy clapped a hand on his shoulder and told him to come help with some things that would need to be attended to around the camp, mostly swords and armour needing to be mended. With a final look shared between the two, they finally allowed their hands to separate as Gendry was lead away from Thoros, Lord Beric and Arya by Anguy.

xoxoxoxox

 _Arya_

She watched as Gendry was taken away by Anguy, the lump that had been stuck in her throat all morning seeming to grow, making breathing once more difficult. She would not let them see her upset. She was a Stark, not that it mattered much now, but she would not become some sobbing mess of a woman, unable to keep her grief in check. She was better than that. She turned finally from watching Gendry's retreating figure and looked up at Lord Beric who had been watching her carefully. "Well, what is it you need of me that you couldn't talk of in front of Gendry?" she asked plainly, not wanting to play games. She'd never had the patients for them.

Thoros chuckled and sipped on his wine skin again. Arya held back the comment that it was just barely past dawn and he was already in his cups. "You called yourself a no one, and I need you to understand that you are not a no one. You know exactly who you are." Lord Beric sounded as if he was explaining something to a small child and Arya became defensive.

With narrowed eyes and a feral sneer she bit out, "Yes, I am Arya Stark of Winterfell, but what good does that anyone now? My name, my title, niether have brought me anything but misfortune and I would like to altogether be done with it. It isn't as if I will ever have the means to regain my home."

Thoros tsked gently at the wolf child. "What are the Tully words?"

Arya wanted to scream. She didn't want a lesson over houses, and duty and responsibility. She wanted to know she had somewhere to go, where she and Gendry could be safe. "Family, Duty, Honor." she bit out through clenched teeth.

"Aye little wolf, and you know, there must always be a Stark in Winterfell." Lord Beric said as he knelt down to eye level with the bitter child. "You have a duty to not only your family but to the North as well. You are the only Stark left, and that makes you…"

"Shut up!" Arya didn't want to hear that she had to continue to be what other people wanted her to be. She didn't want to be what they said she had to be, what her name, her title make her. She wasn't a lady and she sure as hell wasn't a…

"Princess of the North lass, and future Queen as no one knows what has become of your sister." Lord Beric finished, ignoring her outburst. She had not been raised to rule, she was not an elder child. She had been favored by her father and spoiled. Eddard had allowed his daughter so much freedom that she shied away from duty, instead pushing her needs and wants before the realm.

Lord Beric watched the girl carefully as she processed this. It looked like she had known this already but had been denying it. She had no love of her title or of her duty but there had to be a Stark in Winterfell. "Now Thoros and I have come to a decision concerning both yourself and Gendry and if you will honor the bargain we wish to make, we will allow you to stay with the Brotherhood. Are you willing to hear me out without interruption and without fight?"

Arya wanted to spit at the man. He had the nerve to tell her what she needed to do and to make bargains concerning not only her life but Gendry's. No, he wasn't as good as he pretended to be. "I'm listening Lord Beric." she said curtly.

"Sit down then as this will take sometime to go over with you child." Thoros said as he fell back to his bottom in the main chamber, next to the warm fire. Even the mornings were cooler than they had been, another sign that the long summer was giving way to what some said would be an even longer winter. After she had seated herself in a grumpy pile on the ground, Thoros continued, "The Lannisters have seized control over practically all the seven kingdoms in one form or another, including what happened to your family. The Lannisters need to be stopped at all cost and in order to do that we have to gain the favor of the people. We need to people to rally against the King himself so we may put a true Baratheon on the throne and return the kingdom right again."

Arya rolled her eyes, unable to restrain herself. "Is it not a Baratheon on the throne now? King Joffery?"

"Nae, child. Joffery is an act of incest from the Queen and her brother the Kingslayer. We need to put a true Baratheon, of blood on the throne." Lord Beric said firmly.

"So Stannis than? Renly is gone now and I am assuming if Joffery is not a true heir then neither are Myrcella nor Tommen." Arya was trying to follow what all of this had to do with her.

Thoros shook his head in agreement. "All the Queen's children are fathered by her brother. And there is another that we believe would do better on the throne, with the right guidance and teachings, the right people he may trust and rely on, as well as with strong alliances."

Arya wasn't following where this was headed or what Baratheon they would have besides Stannis left. She didn't understand what any of the Southern lands had to do with the North and she didn't know why they were talking of the game with a child of only one and ten with no power. "Please speak plainly of what you require of myself and Gendry in order to stay, as I do not wish to play at riddles all day priest."

Thoros smiled at her tone, royal and entitled and painfully Northern. Yes, she was royal down to her very blood, and there was nothing that would stop that from shining through. A normal life would only serve to send the wolf girl to an early grave. "It has everything to do with yourself and Gendry, girl."

She watched him, his face in that sly smile, waiting for her to figure out what he was speaking of. What did this have to do with her, or rather, what did all of this have to do with Gendry? She understood as a player with a name she was always going to have value to someone in some way but Gendry, he was just a bastard from Flea Bottom. A bastard who had Gold Cloaks seeking him out on the way to the Wall…

"Gendry is a Baratheon bastard." She said after a few moments, putting the pieces of the puzzle into place. "You want to put him on the Iron Throne and to put me back at Winterfell." She felt ill. They were going to use the two, just like everyone else would want to.

Lord Beric nodded, glad that the girl was clever, too clever sometimes. "We want to restore peace to the realm."

Arya nodded, realization hitting her like a ton of bricks. She was still bound to the realm. Never truly free. "I won't make this decision for Gendry. This is something he will have to decide for himself." Truthfully she wanted to tell them to go to hell and to shove their offer where the sun never shone. She felt nauseous and cold, her head swimming. She blamed it on the blow to the head she received yesterday.

Lord Beric nodded his understanding. Of course they could not move forward without the boys consent but he had to get Arya behind this idea to get Gendry to agree. If the girl was not willing than he would not move forward with it either. "Of course."

She nodded, happy the two wouldn't press further without Gendry involved as well. "So what is your plan? Spirit us away and raise an army to take on the Lannisters?" She wanted to get to the root of what they were asking of her, what the bargain was they wanted to make. It was bad enough she was contemplating being used by the two under the guise of duty to the realm, but if she would have to be in the game she would need to know what was expected.

"What we want is for you and Gendry to remain here in somewhat secret. We need the Lannisters to believe that you are both dead, as they currently believe. We will need to educate both yourself and Gendry in politics as well as war and ruling kingdoms. We will use the two of you as a symbol for people. The last Stark joining forces with the true son of Robert Baratheon, to fight against the False King and his whore mother. We wish to restore what was good to the realm." Lord Beric didn't mention the resemblance between the two orphans to that which started the last war. He didn't mention that his generation would see Lyanna and Robert raised from the grave fighting side by side to take back the realm from evil once again.

Arya sat in silence for awhile, weighing all of her options. She could run away with Gendry and they could be outlaws, leave all of the rest of the realm behind and run to the free cities. Not that he would make a very good outlaw, he wouldn't want to steal from others, he was too good. If they ran away they would struggle and may not survive the winter, even if they did cross the Narrow Sea, that was fast approaching. If they stayed, they would be royalty and have all the responsibility that came with it. Each would have their own kingdom and each would have the burden of ruling. She had never wanted to be a ruler.

"I have conditions and I am sure Gendry will as well. I want to talk about this with him and then, after we've talked about things, we will come to you with our decision." She said diplomatically, not wanting to do anything further without talking to Gendry. They were family, he was her pack. She wouldn't make a decision so important without at least talking to him about it.

"Take until this evening then. Go and speak with the boy and then come and find us. Hear out what we have to say and we can go from there little wolf." Thoros said as he stood, ruffling her hair in the process. She wanted to bite his hand.

Lord Beric fixed her with a hard look before he moved to join Thoros, no doubt going to attend to the duties that his Lordship was required to handle. "I understand that you have been on your own for two years now. I understand that you were only nine when you lost the life you knew completely. Please though, look past that. Be selfless in this Princess, and do what is right not for yourself, but for your family and for the realm." With those final words he left her alone, to seek out Gendry.

 **A/N: The next chapter will be published around December 6th. One more Arya and Gendry chapter and then we jump to Sansa for a short time, to see what is happening with the Little Bird. :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Early again. :)**

 **Chapter Three: Big Brothers and Little Sisters Part II**

 _Gendry_

Anguy led him away from Arya and Lord Beric, taking him out of the cave and into the sunlight of the bright morning. The day was already beautiful, if a bit chilled, but that would be gone come midday. Apparently the Brothers had been without a smithy for sometime now and there was quite a bit that had needed to done. A pile of dented armor and broken swords was waiting for him, almost calling to him.

"This is all of it I imagine. Now, I know you won't be getting it all done today so no need to fret, from what I understand we will be here for a few days before we set out again. Let me know of anything else you may need besides the tool provided." With that being said Anguy tipped his head to the boy and turned about, heading in the direction of the woods, whistling a tune Gendry couldn't name.

He turned from the retreating man and looked at the makeshift smith the Brotherhood had. It wasn't much but it would do, with one stove for heating the metal and an anvil, a few different sized shaping hammers and a bucket of water. It was all in the open air, not being able to make a true forge in a cave due to there being no outlet for a chimney. He liked the idea of the outdoor smithy but no it wouldn't do as well as an actual forge. He could fix a few swords here, beat the dents out of chestplates, but he wouldn't be able to create something completely new, not at the quality he was used to making.

Without much thought he picked up some of the broken armour and began to work, happy for the manual labor to take some of the weight from his mind for a while. Gendry was in no way a stupid man, as much as Arya would protest, but he didn't like to think on things he did not have control over, as it always seemed to just cause more problems. Whatever would be, would be and that was all there was. Either Lord Beric would allow Arya to stay or he wouldn't, it did not change the end result, he would be with her, whatever may happen. He didn't want to think about the changing seasons and what that could mean if the Brotherhood cast them out. He didn't want to think about the Lannisters, or the Freys or Boltons, he didn't want to think on anything. So instead, he pulled his shirt over his shoulders, picked up a hammer and let his mind empty to the sing of steel take him away.

He didn't know how long they left him like that but by the time Arya had found him he had gotten through all the armour and was on one of the last swords that needed mending. He looked up into the sky and saw it was well past midday. Wiping the sweat from his brow and turned to the wolf girl as she looked at him expectantly. "So, what they say then?" he asked as he grabbed the skin she was offering him, knowing it was full of water (Arya didn't like wine or ale).

She bit her lip and looked away from him, looking uncomfortable. Something had happened that she didn't like. Assuming the worst, believing that Beric wouldn't allow the girl to stay, Gendry just nodded. "Well than this lot can pay us for my services in fixing their armour and swords." He said with a little bite in his usually calm voice. She shook her head, letting him know his assumptions were wrong. So if they were going to let her stay, what was the problem? Why did she look so upset, torn even? "What is it Arry?" he asked concern taking over his features. He stepped forward and gently placed a hand on her small shoulder. _Why do I keep touching her?_

Gendry didn't know if it was her recent loss that made him reach out as much as he did or if it was the new and somewhat frightening need he had to protect the girl. Yes, he had always felt some protective pull over her, starting when he had first met Arya, being bullied by Hot Pie and Lommy. He hadn't known she was a girl yet and all he saw was someone so small being bullied by a fat pig and a scrawny twit. Gendry had never liked a bully. The feeling of protectiveness changed he figured out that Arry was a she. He wanted to protect the little maiden like all the knights of the stories did, though Arya was not much of a damsel. The protective feeling in him had changed again and he didn't understand what he felt anymore but he knew he had to keep her safe though.

She looked up at him and then around at the people scattered about them, all lost in their own little world. "I don't want to talk about it here. Come on, you're filthy. Let's go for a swim." she said and turned down the way he had taken her to the creek earlier that morning. He followed without a word, just wanting to find out what had her so worked up. Were they planning on selling her? What was to happen?

When they arrived at the creek he walked right into the water, only taking off his boots as he went. As he had expected, the morning chill was gone and now they were in a warm summer day. The cool water felt good against his skin, and was a sharp contrast from the fire he had been working with not a half hour before. He dunked his head under the water for a short time and when he came back up he came face to face with Arya as she waded into the water wearing only breeches and wrappings around her chest. He had seen her this way before so it did not shock him this time. He thought back to the first time she had shed her tunic to swim with him and Hot Pie and smiled. Things were much more simple then.

"So what has you so bothered mi'Lady?" he asked again as he scrubbed his arms from the grime and dust that had built up on them from working with the fire and steel all morning.

"I am going to tell you something about yourself and you have to promise me you will not run away. You must swear it." She was serious. He couldn't imagine what she had known now about himself that he wouldn't know already.

He smiled and bit back a chuckle, knowing she would see it as him making fun of her or not taking her seriously. She was always so serious. "I swear it Arry. Now what is going on?" he needed to know what was bothering her so and what it had to do with him.

Arya took a deep breath and then looked at him directly in the eyes, before grabbing his hands firmly in her own. She had never taken his hands in that way, it was usually he that instigated the touching between them. "Gendry, you are the late king, Robert Baratheon's son."

He felt his breath leave him as if she had punched him in the stomach. His knees felt weak and his head seemed to spin, as if he had been the one hit in the head yesterday and not Arya. He knew she was watching him. He could see her reading him, like an open book. Gednry was glad she didn't gloat about it after his knees had wobbled slightly. "What in the seven hells are you talking about?! I am no one! I am just a bastard boy." he denied, not wanting to understand what this meant for him. Why was she telling him this? Who had told her? What was going on?

She looked apologetic, as if she understood that she was shattering his world with a few simple words. "I'm sorry, I've never been good at…" she trailed off, seemingly to not know the word.

"At talking? Breaking news gently?" Gendry questioned with a scoff.

Arya nodded. "Basically." she agreed, happy he seemed to understand.

"We've been together a long time Arry, I know you aren't pulling punches." Gendry muttered, squeezing her hands a little tighter. He didn't know what to do and the only thing that hadn't changed in his world in the last few moments was her, and he was holding on for dear life.

Arya nodded again and shifted, causing the water to splash lightly. "I'm sorry." she said, sounding as sincere in an apology as he had ever heard. "I know it's shocking to you. Honestly though, I feel embarrassed I didn't see it sooner."

He raised a brow. "What do you mean?" How would she have known who his father was?

"I lived in the Red Keep with the King for nearly five months before I was forced to flee. He came to my home in Winterfell personally to ask my father to journey south. You have his eyes. His hair. And from what I hear, he used to be all muscle rather than the fat lard I met." she explained simply. She had thought his eyes had looked familiar but had never been able to place them, the thought always evading her, barely hiding in the shadows.

He nodded, not really knowing what to say. He had personally never seen his father and didn't know what he had looked like. He had seen the royal procession a time or two but had never been one to stand on the side of the road and greet the royals, he was usually too busy working. "Well, who told you then?" He still held her hands he noticed. He saw her eyes drop to their hands and knew she noticed as well. She left her hands in his.

"Lord Beric and Thoros. That was part of the conversation we just had. Probably the biggest part honestly…." She wasn't looking at him now, she was looking down into the cold creek water that came from melted snow in the North. Her voice was quiet and as anytime she lowered her tone it became somewhat raspy. It sounded nice when she spoke softly he decided.

Gendry felt his stomach in knots. How could the knowledge that he was the bastard of a king not be the biggest part of the news. "Well, best be out with it then so I can faint properly and drown." He joked, spurning her for a reaction, too look at him.

She did just that and playfully hit him in the chest with a wet smack. "Don't be stupid! This is your life we are talking about. People planning and plotting about you _without_ you!"

He smiled at her anger. "It doesn't change much though."

Molten silver narrowed further. "It does entirely Gendry. They want to put you on the Iron Throne and remove Joffery because he is born of incest to the Queen." She pushed him harshly, causing splashing in the shallow clear water all around them. "They want to make you a King and they want to use me for support of the North. The Last Stark backing the true son of Robert Baratheon claim to the throne in another rebellion against the crown."

 _Ah_ … He thought. _That explains a lot._ So here they were, two pawns, to be used in a war. They were only children, even him really, only being five and ten. He didn't know how to be a king or if they could even really get that kind of support from the people of Westeros to put him on the crown. He felt panicked, trapped. "We can run away. Let's leave now." His voice came out as a soft whisper, barely louder than the breeze blowing through the trees.

Arya looked up at Gendry with wide eyes. She wanted to do that, more than anything. How simple it seemed, to just run away from it all. What would their life be like? Mayhaps they could travel across the sea to Braavos… Pentos, Qarth…. Anywhere but this war torn country she once thought so fondly of. Or maybe they could make it to the Wall, to Jon…

That would have been nice, but the wolf pup knew that they would never make it, not on their own, with lions and other monsters that bump in the night running about throughout these woods. Not only that, but Lord Beric had said something that reminded her of her dear father. Honor and duty. "We can't Gendry. We wouldn't ever make it on our own." she said simply, not wanting to explain why she needed to take back the North for her family, for her father. She could not let his legacy, her legacy pass into history and ruin like the Targaryens had before, during the last war. No, she was a Stark, and the Starks endure.

He could see there was more to her reasoning than what she had said but still didn't want to push her. She would open up to him again in time. She had lost so much, he didn't feel right taking her privacy. "What can we do then? I'm no king Arya. And you say all the time that you're no Lady." His voice was still low, but cracked mid way through his question.

"They want to speak with us, and explain their plan, but we need to think of what our terms will be to be what they want of us." she explained. They had to maintain some measure of power in this. Without them, the others had nothing.

"Why do they even want to do this? It don't make any sense to put an uneducated bastard on the throne." Gendry splashed into the water, falling onto his back, upper body floating on the top of the water.

Arya rolled her eyes. " _Doesn't_ not don't. And it's not about _who_ they're putting on the throne it's that they have the control over you and _you_ are the who."

She was an awful know it all. He smiled, at least she was getting back to her normal self with him. He splashed water at her, blinding her momentarily but achieving his goal, to aggravate the wolf. Never being on to take an attack sitting down, she retaliated with zealous, using both hands instead of one. That was all it took to start the fight between the two. Before long she had her legs wrapped around his waist and his neck wrapped in her arms from behind. "You had better yield of I will be forced to take further action." He could hear her grin.

Looking at her over his shoulder with a cocky smile he grabbed her tiny arms, each by the wrist and pulled them away from his neck. He could feel her fighting it with all her might but she was a small little thing, ( _Too tiny_ , he thought again, trying to remember to give her some of his portions tonight) and had very little chance against his strength.

Though she was not strong the girl was quick, and resourceful. It only took a few tugs to escape Gendry's grasp in the water, and as soon as she did she fell from his back and into the water. Once under she pushed off his legs with force and swam underneath, away from the bull. When she came up some distance away she saw him grinning and walking after her, wading heavily through the waist high (to Gendry at least) water. "You can't swim?" she asked with a knowing smirk. Wading was the slowest way to reach her. If he could swim he would be able to reach her fast with his arm strength alone propelling him.

"Cheeky little Lady today" He grumbled as he continued to try and catch the wolf. They stayed that way for a while, Gendry splashing about clumsily trying to catch the wolf who seemed to remind him more of a river otter at this point. He eventually quit trying to catch her and waded his way over to shore. With a heavy sigh he fell back onto the grass and let the sun warm his wet skin. He didn't even hear her as she made her way out of the water. "How are you so quiet?" He said after he opened his eyes and found her lying next to him, arms behind her head.

She shrugged. "My dancing master taught me to be quiet as a shadow and quick as a snake. He used to make me practice for hours. Chasing cats, standing on one toe at the top of the stairs, walking on dried leaves and making no sound."

For while it was silent between them. Him thinking on the future, on what Lord Beric wanted with making him of all people a king, and her thinking on the past and lives lost. "What will we do Arya?" he asked after a while, not knowing how to handle any of this. He was a simple man, wanting nothing more than a wife one day at most, not asking for titles or lands or any of the responsibilities that came with them. He only wanted to be content.

She turned on her side and looked at him with big grey eyes. They were stormy, he noticed, not hard like steel as they had been with Lord Beric and Thoros earlier. She was different with him. "We come to terms to protect ourselves. They won't let us leave, even if we say no to the deal. So, instead, we use them while they use us. But we must remember, it isn't about them or what they want." He rolled to his side as well so he could watch her, give her his full attention. When he did that she reached out again and took one of his hands. "We will survive and we will fight for us. We are family."

He smiled. He had never had a family but as he stared into her stormy eyes, swirling with emotions he couldn't quite read, and felt the warmth of her small hand in his, he decided that he would like it.

xoxoxo

 _Lord Beric_

He watched the children splash and play from the tree line, careful to conceals his presence. He felt like he was looking back in time, before he had been killed, even the first time, before the world he knew was torn into battle and blood and death. They were too young to understand what he saw, what was happening to them, but he could see it plain as day. That boy loved that girl, with all his heart. That girl loved that boy, with the last bit of humanity she had left, she clung to him.

They were too young to understand what was pulling them together. She was still a girl, too young to feel the pull of a man over a woman. The boy was too innocent to understand why he wanted to touch her, why he would poke and prod her to make her mad. _All in time though_. He thought gravely, a feeling of foreboding overwhelming him as he thought of the day when the two realized their love for eachother. Nothing good had ever come from a Stag loving a Wolf.

"Making sure the little Lady's honor isn't besmirched?" came an entertained voice from behind him. He turned and found Anguy leaning against a tree, quiver and bow on his back.

Lord Beric smiled warmly at Anguy and shook his head lightly. "I doubt it is him we will have to worry about when it comes to the Lady's honor." Lord Beric said warmly. That boy was born _good_.

Anguy barked a laugh at that. "I wouldn't be so sure mi'Lord. Even the best man can turn to beast in the Autumn moon." He watched as the two began wrestling again. He would tickle her until she got away, but all knew that had he wanted to, all he would need to do was not let go and she would not be able to escape. He was twice her size and still growing strong. The girl wouldn't get much bigger if Anguy had to guess, her growth being stunted at an important time for height from lack of food. "When she becomes woman we'll have to watch him."

Lord Beric was surprised by this comment. He never once thought that it would be Gendry that they would have to watch, but rather the wild she wolf that was now on top of the boy, beating down on him with tiny fists. "I think she is going to be the issue…" he grumbled, already worrying as to how to handle the change that would soon be upon to feral child.

Anguy watched still, eyes never leaving Gendry. "I have sisters mi'Lord. One of them was like the little Lady, more boy than girl. She always ran around with a boy from the farm down the road. They did everything together, from the time they were quite small. And the lad was good, as good as they come. But one day, when they were alone, swimming, he got too tempted by her changing form." As if on cue, Gendry grabbed both of Arya's wrist as they came toward him, for another blow that would not hurt, and flipped the girls position to her back, her wrists above her head, pinned in one of his much larger hands. He tickled her then, not letting her squirm away this time, using his body to hold her still.

"It's not his fault. Women have this power and the one's like her are the worst. They don't even know what they're doing until it's too late."

Lord Beric felt that feeling of foreboding return. "She will take after her Aunt in all ways it seems."

xoxoxoxo

 _Thoros_

The old priest was ready to settle in for the night, his bones tired and his mind hazy from the wine. Tomorrow would be another day, but tonight he would rest. As he dropped down into the furs he slept on near the centre fire of the main chamber, he uncorked the wine skin he had on his person at all times. After a long pull of the wine he let his eyes unfocus into the fire, in an almost meditative state. He wasn't really thinking of anything, just being. He rarely got moments like these living life like a bandit, constantly on the run. Surrounded by all his brother's though in the safety of their cave hideaway, he allowed himself a moment to let go and drop his guard and simply _be_.

The moment was far too short though as a small unlady like little urchin had decided that moment to bring herself into his company. With no warning whatsoever, the little she wolf landed on top of his back, pushing him face first into the floor. With more pain than should have been, he cursed his aging body, he let out a groan and pushed himself up, effectively throwing the child off of him. "What in all thing good in this world are you doing?" he seethed after fulling raising himself into a seated position again and turned to glare at the little wolf and her ever present bull pet.

"It was an accident." Arya said with narrowed eyes, picking herself up off the ground and brushing her already dirty clothes off.

"And might you explain how one simply, accidentally falls on top of someone?" The raised a brow, waiting for the girls response.

"Accidentally." she said simply with a sly smile. He eyes showed him darkness in her but she was still young, just a mischievous, spoilt girl.

"Your father should have reigned you in long ago. Now I fear there is no doing it." Thoros said with a shake of his head and sip of his wine. "So, I assume you're both here to hear us out then?"

Gendry nodded, still yet to speak. He looked pale, and woozy. She had already given him the worst blow. The rest would be easy enough.

"I'll get Beric than. Grab your dinner and come and sit with us." With that Thoros left them, walking to get Lord Beric and begin a new era.

 **A/N: Not quite at 5,000, but this is part two. I will have another chapter out soon. Before Christmas definitely.**

 **About Gendry and Arya, this will be a slow burn as she is only a little girl right now and he himself is only fifteen. She is eleven here. At this point they are family.**

 **Next we see Sansa and the Hound! Let me know what you think in a comment and thank you for reading.**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Sorry this took a little longer than the other chapters. We just celebrated my son's birthday so my focus was elsewhere honestly. But now I am here and you now have the first of many Sansa chapters. But don't worry, we'll see Arya, Gendry and the brothers again soon enough.**

 **Chapter Four: Fly Away Little Bird**

"Look at me!"

All around her the battle raged on just outside the walls of the Red Keep, but she could still hear her heart beating in her ears louder than any noises from the fighting men below. She was shaking as she gripped onto the doll, the last doll her father her bought her before the King had taken his head as a traitor. Before her towered the Hound, snarling down at her like a monster from one of Old Nans stories. She looked up but a moment to hold his gaze before her blue eyes once more dropped down to the side, unable to hold the contact. _You are a wolf, and wolves aren't afraid._ She swallowed down the scream that was sitting in her throat and looked up and the giant man before her.

"Stannis is a killer. The Lannisters are killers, your father was a killer. You brother is a killer. Your sons will be killers some day." He paused for only a moment, but the look in his eye softened. He was looking down at her not with contempt or ill will. She did not see cruelty when she looked into the eyes of Sandor Clegane as she did when she looked into Joffery's eyes, the Queen's and Lord Baelish's. She did not see lecherous intent. She saw something that she had not seen since her wonderful father had been taken from her, she saw love. Sansa realized something she had been missing all this time about the Hound. "The world is built by killers, so you better get used to looking at them."

She looked up at him then, as his voice softened for her, only her, and felt the fear lifted from her. "You won't hurt me." she said softly, her slim frame no longer shaking in his presence. He wanted to _protect_ her.

He was quiet for a moment and she took her time taking in his features fully for the first time. In the dim light of her chambers, while his hideous scar was covered in shadow, he looked almost handsome, with bright blue eyes and long raven hair. He was a large man, tall and broad, though still dwarfed by his brother. He was almost two heads taller than her, while most men were just barely so, even at her young age. He looked sad more than frightening, a perpetual frown engraved into his features, she realized and she felt her heart swell. "No little bird, I won't hurt you." He said finally, sounding almost as though he was hurt that she would have thought that in the first place. With one last look he turned from the young woman, still as a corpse, and began toward the door of her chamber.

It was that moment, as the Hound made his way to the door, his back turned on the Northern Lady, Sansa realized this would be her only chance to escape this godless place while still breathing. She wanted to see the trees of the Wolfswood. She wanted to see the snow again, to escape the sweltering, oppressive heat of the South. She wanted to be with her family, surrounded with their love and protection once more. She wanted to be in her mother's arms, to know that everything would be as it was once before. She didn't want to be afraid anymore. She needed to be brave, she needed to be a wolf to get away.

Her hands dropped to her side as he grabbed the door latch and turned it, opening the room to the empty hallway. "Wait." Her voice was barely above a whisper but it did the job. Instantly Clegane froze, unable to disobey the little bird. "Take me with you."

He turned then, and met her eyes. She stood taller than he had seen in a long time. Her shoulders were set and her chin high, looking more noble than the Lannisters would ever allow, a true royal. "We must leave now than Lady, there is no time to waste." he said firmly.

She nodded and quickly set to work, grabbing her warmest cloak and a small bag of what she deemed essential. All the coins she had, warmer and more plain clothing (perhaps she could sell her current gown for a fair price), some medicinal herbs she always kept close and the little doll her father had last gifted her before his untimely demise. Within five minutes the young woman was ready and turned to the Hound, letting him know that she was prepared. With no thought he reached out and grasped her arm gruffly leading her at an extremely quick pace to the castle stables. They made their way through the corridors, careful of anyone who may spot them. Her cloak was pulled over her hair to help hide the most distinguishing feature but still they couldn't be too careful.

After what seemed like a lifetime they finally made it to the stables, not running into any enemy or allied forces. "This is where things will become more difficult little bird. You'll ride with me, it'll be safer and quicker that way. Later on we may get you a horse."

She didn't argue that she was an accomplished rider, instead letting him protect her as he saw best, reveling in the feeling of being cared for by anyone again after such a long time. As he saddled his mount she watched the door of the stables carefully, sky blue eyes carefully watching for any intruders. Her body hummed with adrenaline, her heart pounding in her ears sounding. After a moment she realized the sound was not her heart but the gate of the keep being beat upon for entry by Stannis's army.

She gasped when she felt strong hands grab her by the waist from behind and lift her effortlessly into the air, like she was made of nothing but feathers. The Hound placed her on his great black steed gently before quickly settling himself behind her. She could feel him behind her, huge like the stallion they sat upon. His voice was low when he spoke and he leant close to be sure she would hear what he was saying. "As soon as those gates open is when we are going. We will rush through in the confusion. Hold on and trust me girl and I will get you out of this gods forsaken castle."

She could not find her voice in that moment, thinking of what was to happen next. Instead she bit her bottom lip and nodded her head in understanding to let him know that she would do as he told her. She felt her hands glide into the mane of the massive best beneath her and she prayed silently he would protect her as his master intended. With a deep breath she began counting to herself to try and ease her nerves, finding the wait agonizing.

 _One_.

There was a large thud as the battering ram slammed into the castle gate. The shouts of men could be heard as well as the shuffling of metal and horses.

 _Two._

Another thunderous bang as the gate was again beaten. She thought she heard a cracking noise, like wood when thrown into a fire. She couldn't be sure though. Still the men screamed, one voice shouting to 'hold'.

 _Three._

The horse beneath her rocked slowly from left to right as if anticipating what was to come, reading his rider's intent. This had been his horse for a very long time and he cared for him well. The knock of the ram sounded again and this time she knew she heard the tell tale crack of wood splintering under force.

 _Four_.

The gate failed and she felt him grip her a little tighter between his arms and he held the reigns. With a swift kick, the war horse tore into motion, not skittish against the excitement of the battle. She tried not to see what was going on all around her, the carnage of battle and the gore of the fight, but she couldn't stop it. Many a man fell to their death in the time it took to cross the courtyard from the stable to the gate and Sansa would say a prayer for each and everyone of them. Finally they came upon the gate which was flooded with people. With no hesitation the black beauty tore through, running men down and knocking them from their feet in its mission to get them past the castle walls.

With a loud whiny and an unreal leap the war horse jumped over the last of the men blocking his path and was then tearing out and away from the castle. They tore down the King's Road through the city streets which were seemingly abandoned. All townspeople had been evacuated in preparation for the siege to come from Stannis's invading forces. The heavy hoof falls of the horse and the slowly dissipating sounds of the battle raging behind them were the only sounds in the dark hours of the night. Sansa held tight to the base of the mane of the great beast but did not pull, not wanting to hurt the animal. She tried to steady her breathing and calm her fluttering heart but little she did would quell her nervousness. If they were caught it would be both of their heads for abandoning the King. She knew Joffery would not care that she was a valuable pawn against her brother in the war with the North, just as he had not heeded not only her pleas but Queen Cersei's to show mercy to Ned Stark for his "treason". Joffery was not merciful and would have her head on a spike but only after he humiliated her completely in front of all of court.

She shut her eyes then, and prayed to her old gods, the gods of the North and of her people. She prayed for safe passage and to return to her home. She prayed they escaped unnoticed by the guards. Silently she repeated her prayers again and again for many hours as the horse continued to power forward. She lost count of how many times she had said the prayer or what gods she had prayed to but she didn't know what else she could do.

The ride was long and she eventually let her mind wander to her sweet mother and dear older brother, Rob. He was fighting a war against these monsters and did not fully understand the depravity that they would sink to in order to win. She had to find him, tell him how unhonorable house Lannister was in their plot to keep the Iron Throne for themselves and take the freedom of the North. She thought of her youngest brothers in Winterfell, home and safe with Maester Luwin. She wondered if Rickon would even remember when she returned. She thought on Bran, and wondered if he had healed from his fall from the tower before her departure.

Her mind then turned to Arya, her lost little sister. They had never been close, and often times Sansa had hoped that Arya would disappear. Now she felt horrible for ever wishing that of her sister. If she was alive it would be news to her, as she had not seen her sister since they broke their fast together the morning of her father's arrest. The girls had been fighting, as they normally did, and she had been harsh with the nine year old. She wished she could take it back. If she could do it all again she would try harder with her little sister, try to understand her strange ways and need to defy everything that was proper. She worried for Arya more than she did any of her other siblings as there was no safe place in the world for a highborn girl alone.

It was the early hours now and the light was almost grey. The forest all around them was quiet and foreboding as they walked now down the King's Road. The Hound pulled tightly on the reigns and his war horse pulled itself back, halting with a jerk. With no warning or word the Hound dismounted from the animal and pulled the reins over its large head, leaving Lady Sansa perched on his back alone. He lead the mount off the main road and into the still dim forest that surrounded the beaten path. The trees leaves were all beginning to change with the season and some were starting to fall. The mist of the morning gave the world around her a hazy look and she almost felt as though she was walking through a dream. She again bit her lip with worry, not from what she thought Sandor was doing but more for the fact that everything was unknown.

"May I ask where we are going?" She asked after finding her voice. They walked deeper still into the forest, away from the main road and any other proper travelers.

"North, as I said. I will take you to your mother and your brother."

His answer had been gruff and his tone came out mean and harsh but she could not stop the smile that was spreading across her face almost painfully. He had been true, as she had thought, as she had felt inside. He was taking her North, to her home, to what was left of her family. She couldn't stop the tears of joy from spilling from her eyes and she realized that she was finally, at least for the time, free from the Lannisters claws. Out here, in the open countryside, full of bandits and wild animals lurking, escorted by only the King's former dog, she felt more safe than she had since her father had been taken from her. "I can't tell you how thankful-" she had started to tell him, her voice thick with emotion.

Sandor grunted to stop her from talking before he turned and looked back at the fairer Stark girl. Her hair had fallen loose from the small braids that had kept the strands from her face and was tousled slightly, flowing like a river of fire over her slender form. Her tear stained cheeks were rosy, whether from the cold morning air or her tears the Hound didn't know. Even her mouth looked appealing, half open and red lipped. _She is even beautiful when she is sniveling._ He thought grouchily. He hadn't wanted her to cry, he wanted her to be happy, that was the entire reason to offer to take her from the Red Keep and back North at the obvious risk of losing his head. He had stolen away the favorite plaything of the King and there would be consequences if they were captured. The mission he had taken on himself was a suicide mission if he failed.

"Quit your crying Princess. There'll be none of that on this trip." He said, sounding softer than he intended. He was never able to be gruff with the little bird.

xoxoxo

 _Cersei Lannister_

She looked out the balcony window and down into the courtyard gardens from what had been Sansa's room. The bed was undisturbed and every trinket was still in its place. Even her clothes remained in the wardrobe.

Tywin had saved them all, just as she should have known he would do. Cersei for some reason had forgotten that her father was unstoppable as a leader and general and would have known that an attack like that was coming far longer than the fools she had surrounding her in the capitol. Certainly they had suffered substantial losses but Stannis had lost nearly his entire fleet, and his army was cut down to a fraction of what it had been. The threat from Stannis to her son's claim of the throne was neutralized, or at least declawed. Now, the only remaining threat to her family and her children was the North.

She took a long deep drink from her glass of red wine, trying to fight of the headache that had been building behind her eyes since the battle had ended and just what was lost during it had come to light. The key to the North, and the war, Sansa Stark had disappeared in the dark of night, unseen and unnoticed, similar to her sister before her. The Queen had lost the only leverage that they still had against the North and her father had fully explained what she had cost their family in her failure. "Not only did you fail completely in capturing the younger daughter, where you did capture one you let her fall through your fingers in the chaos of a battle." The disappointment and disgust had rolled of him in waves when he had said that to his daughter.

Tywin had just left, storming out of the chamber and making his way to the small council meeting, which he had been sure to ban her from. He had always been a hard man to love, she even remembered her mother telling her before she left her at the hands of the imp as much. Tywin had very high expectations for his children and failures were not tolerated and often punished harshly. She and each of her brothers had disappointed her father in the recent months, and the gods only knew what he had planned at their penance.

She turned her mind from the inevitable to her current problem, the loss of Sansa Stark. She had heard rumors around the castle that the Hound had been the one to take the Northern Princess. Apparently he had left in the midst of the battle, declaring he was a dog no more and fuck the King. He hadn't been seen by any guard since. It wasn't until the following morning a maid had come forward and reported seeing Lady Sansa being put on the back of a great black steed by a man with a horrendous scar and spirited away into the night. Cersei put the clues together and believed that the Hound had come to take the girl with him as a kind of prize for his service, not believing the timid little sweetling would have the stomach to runaway and risk her neck so openly.

Sansa was a timid and scared little dove that had been trapped in the lion's claws. Now she was taken by a rabid dog, stupid enough to bite the hand that had kept him fed since the Rebellion. Cersei almost felt bad for the girl, unsure what a man like Sandor Clegane would do with a helpless little maiden. A small part of her felt for the young girl, stolen away by the hideous creature. The Gods only knew what she was to endure before he ransomed her away or killed her. She would be raped before certainly. The Queen had seen the way the Hound watched the Stark girl, keeping his eyes on her much longer than was proper.

No, even if she did survive her virtue would be lost, or permanently in question, and thus her hold over the North would be lost as well. A woman's worth in this forsaken realm was solely based on her virginity and ability to bear children. Women were not judged worthy based on their ability to learn or fight, only on their ability to bear sons and remain pious. It was a cruel fate to be a woman in this world, even a woman with supposed title and power. They were still nothing but pawns on the board for the male players, to be used and abused, humiliated and tortured.

She decided at the moment that she would have the Mountain kill his brother rather than anyone else. A befitting end to the traitor.

xoxoxoxo

 _Tywin_

The council was in an uproar. Yes, he had won the battle and saved the capitol but his beautiful but daft daughter had possibly lost them the war. He had come to King's Landing expecting to have two bargaining chips against Rob Stark and his damned Northern army, instead he found one of the Stark girls had never been held and the other escaped the same night, when she was supposed to have been with the Queen and the other ladies. Not only that but a soldier who was supposedly loyal only to the King seemingly took the girl.

Without even one of the Stark girls there was no chance of Rob Stark relenting his attack. Tywin expected once it was discovered that Sansa had fled or been taken, whichever it may have been, the Northern forces would march on them.

"Really, how far could he have taken her in two days time? She can't be far. We should send out forces to retrieve her."

"You believe they would be lollygagging about then, not worried for the wrath of the King? It is too late to catch up with them and take her back that way. The Hound will have left the main roads and have taken to the forest."

"Do we even know what direction they may have gone?"

Tywin slammed his hand on the great table the council was seated at. "Enough." His voice was commanding without yelling. Everyone around his fell silent and he took in who he had at his disposal. His imp son, the eunuch, an old maester well past his expiration, a fat Tyrell and soon a Dornish prince he had no interest in entertaining. "Both Stark girls need to be found and this needs to be a priority. Without them there is no key to the North. Without them Rob Stark is free to destroy us be it through siege methods or an attack."

Tyrion was the only one brave enough to speak up against his father. "The younger girl has been missing since her father was taken prisoner. There was no trace of her as we scoured the city but no sign of her. Sansa we may be able to reclaim but it is unlikely. We need to make a plan as to how to handle the North without the Stark girls."

His son was always logical, but he, just like his older sister, was also not as smart as he thought he was. "That would be true if I didn't have information on the other Stark girl, and an idea of where the Hound will take Sansa." Tywin's tone was bored. He wanted Tyrion to feel a fool for questioning him in front of anyone, let alone the small council he was to lead. He had received news from his men at Harrenhal just on the morn regarding a strange occurrence and three murdered guards. The letter continued to inform him that three prisoners had also disappeared, a smith, a kitchen hand and his new cupbearer.

Tywin offered the letter to Tyrion and let him read it quickly. The imp passed the letter to the next council member as he spoke, "What does this have to do with the youngest Stark girl?"

Tywin wanted to hit his son and he let the emotion show on his face but he did nothing but answer him in a dull and uninterested tone, "I believe that the cupbearer I had acquired was the younger Stark girl. She had been taken captive with a smith and a kitchen hand as they traveled to the Wall. When I first met her she was disguised as a dirty little boy and everyone had bought into the act. I had to point out to one of my men that she was a girl. I did not know who she was but I knew she was not who she said she was. The deaths of my guards and her disappearance further my suspicions that she is in fact Arya Stark."

Tyrion narrowed his eyes. "So it is still only a hunch that we are following?"

"Have you got any brighter ideas Tyrion?"

 **A/N: And that is all she wrote for today. :) I know it isn't as long as it typically but there will be much more. So Sansa is on her way North with the Hound and Tywin is in King's Landing plottin' on um'.**

 **Looking forward to reviews, follows and favorites and also if anyone is interested in betaing for this work PLEASE let me know.**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Sorry this is so late. I know there are no excuses but they will be much quicker now. Without further ado, enjoy the Chapter!**

 **Chapter Five: Something Wicked This Way Comes**

xoxoxoxo

Tywin Lannister

Tywin Lannister stared down at the scroll he had just received from Harrenhall. While Lord Baelish would have the pleasure of that cursed pile of rubble soon enough, Tywin was still currently it's keeper until everything had been finalized. Apparently, three of his captives had escaped, the cooks helper, the smith, and his little cup bearer. They had not just escaped by sneaking away into the night either, no, they had killed four guards he'd had stationed there, the two front gate sentries, the top level look out over the main gate and another had been found just outside the gate, like he had fallen from the top.

 _That girl is the ringleader of this. She is of importance._ He glared down at the note and then threw it into the fire. He knew that she wasn't who she said she was. She spoke properly and he could see when she spoke improperly purposefully. She had to fight to keep her chin down and to not order people about, the way he watched her order the boy smith. She reminded him a great deal of his own daughter when she was young, just much dirtier.

It was obvious to Tywin that she was the daughter of a nobleman and there was only one nobleman's daughter he knew _now_ had been missing for nearly three years thanks to the incompetence he had left in charge while he was absent fighting his grandson's war. Arya Stark of Winterfell, the lost Northern girl. There was only one way to confirm his suspicions that he had had Arya Stark as his cup bearer at Harrenhall, and that was in speaking with someone who had seen her and would recognize her. If he could confirm that it had indeed been Arya Stark, he would then have an area to look. The three children could not make it so far following a high born girl through the woods so badly prepared.

He waited patiently for his daughter and grandson to arrive in his solar. He had summoned them to him wanting answers that both of them would have. Cersei was the first to appear, she primly smiled and seated herself at the table to wait for her son, wasting no time filling a glass with wine. "Father. Good morning to you." She said in her version of a sweet tone. Her long hair was mostly free, just the way her mother had always worn her own hair. He nodded to her and continued going through the documents he had been brought today, treaties, trade agreements and claims mostly.

"Your son is late." Tywin stated coldly, turning to the next page in the pile before him. He took a drink of his tea, a concoction the Maester had given him to calm his pains. Years of battle had left it's scars of the great Lannister Lion.

"Yes well, he is convinced that everyone is at his leisure, Father." Cersei said simply, looking more her age than Tywin had ever seen.

They two weren't made to wait much longer. Soon enough King Joffery strode in, head high and a twisted smirk on his Lannister like features. He definitely took after the Lion side of his heritage, much to Tywin's delight. "So good of you to join us, your Grace." Tywin said finally putting down his paperwork. He did not hide his annoyance from his tone or his face. The boy was rude and spoilt by his mother.

Cersei stood upon her son's entrance and immediately made her way to him to greet him. "My sweet, good morning." She said with a truly warm smile. If there was one thing that Tywin could say for his daughter was her devotion and love for her children outweighed most of her worse characteristics in his eyes. Family is all and the children are the future. She at least understood that. He couldn't even get his sons to have children of their own.

Joffery greeted his mother as warmly as he was capable with a small, difficult smile and a pat on her shoulder when she embraced him. He was a boy of poor temperament, one of the worst Tywin had seen in someone so young. "As well as I can be mother with so many threatening my reign. Grandfather. What is it you have summoned me for so early in the morning? Most would have the good graces to come to the King if there is something of importance."

Tywin didn't flinch at the jab and did not even look up from the paper he was skimming. "I rose before the sun and have been working. I summoned you because I never know when you will awaken." His tone was flat and his green eyes hard as emerald when he finally raised them to meet the similar eyes of the king.

Joffery visibly flinched at the look in his grandfather's face and retreated slightly, sitting at the table beside his mother. He could not deny the logic to the statement and thus could not be angry with his actions. "Well what is it then?" he bit out in defeat.

Cersei sipped again from her cup and asked in her soft tone. "Yes father, what is it you needed?" She sounds genuinely curious. She had always enjoyed when he paid special attention to her.

"You both knew the youngest Stark girl before she disappeared." It was a statement, not a question. He didn't need an answer.

Cersei's brows knitted together in confusion while Joffery rather dramatically made a noise of distaste in the back of his throat. "Not much of a girl. More rabid bitch I would say." The boy King said disdain dripping off each word. It was clear that she had tried the boy and if it was the girl that he had known in the cursed castle with murder dancing her her storm filled eyes then he was certain the confrontation had not gone the way he had wanted.

"What about the girl, father?" Cersei's asked, ignoring her son's antics. He had always been a touch colorful. She wanted to help Tywin in whatever way she could. He knew she felt guilty for letting not just one but both girls slip through her fingers.

Tywin fixed them both with a hard look and stood, turning his back to them then and looking out the window of the Tower of the Hand. "I believe I may have found the area that the girl could currently be in, but I do not know what she looked like. I had never seen her before. I need to be sure before we us the resources to find her that it is one hundred percent Arya Stark. We can't afford to send men if we do not need to with the threat of Stannis looming."

Cersei's eyes were wide and Joffery looked uncomfortable, angry, and almost afraid at the mention of the youngest Stark daughter. "She had the Stark looks, dark hair, her father's eyes. She was small, even for her age. And was always dirty." His daughters vague description confirmed many physical characteristics. Though he did not know what Ned Starks eyes looked like. "Where is it you thought you saw the girl? How did you know?" Questions were spilling from the Queen's lips faster than she meant.

"What color are the eyes Cersei?" He asked coolly ignoring her other questions. Her eyes had stuck out to him, being an uncommon color for the Riverlands where most had blue eyes.

"Eyes like a winter storm. Grey and dark."

He turned quickly to look at his daughter and grandson, a smirk slowly climbing across his features. "Well, then the Riverlands will need to be scoured thoroughly. Thankfully we have a few new alliances there, and they will aide is in this."

xoxoxox

 _Sansa_

She stretched her legs out in front of her and pointed her toes, trying to soothe her aching muscles. They had been riding North, to the Neck for the past two weeks and she was more sore than she ever thought she could be. The Hound moved fairly quickly across the countryside, and she was truly grateful that he was getting her to her family as quickly as they could manage, but she honestly didn't know how much longer she could take the hours on horseback. The delicate skin of her thighs was spotted with purple bruises, her slender form looking slightly gaunt from the lack of food as they avoided all towns and even small villages. She knew she looked horrible, her plain dress dirty and ripped at the him, her eyes heavy with bags from sleepless nights on the forest floor. But when she thought it all too much to endure she thought to her mother and her brother and knew that it was not without reason she had left the comfortable yet suffocating hold of the capitol.

With a heavy sigh she pulled her thick woolen cloak tighter around her shoulders and settled herself again, tucking her long legs underneath her. The fire popped loudly and she let herself be comforted by the familiar sound. She had always liked the fire, the warmth and light it provided, how it brought people closer together. She had noticed her traveling companion did not like the fire as much as she herself did. Sandor kept as far from the fire as he could while still receiving its warmth. "How much farther do you think it is to the Twins?" She asked steadily. Their time together had made her used to his rough persona. His actions toward her outweighed his gruffness in her personal opinion.

"A week, perhaps two depending on the weather." Came his rough reply. He always answered her questions shortly, a man of few words. He was looking at her in that funny way again, the way she didn't understand and she supposed it was because she was still a child in many ways. When she was reunited with her mother she would learn.

One moon had passed since she had began traveling with Sandor Clegane and still he kept his word and kept her safe as they traveled North, to her home land. Each day she grew more and more appreciative of everything that he risked for her. She had not promised him a reward, she had not offered knighthood or jewels or even women and wine. She had offered him nothing and yet he risked everything. He never asked anything of her and made sure that she was fed and warm. He was considerate of her needs even without her needing to ask, like her desire to remain some semblance of presentable. He often made sure they broke camp next to or very near streams, rivers or ponds whenever possible and would leave to give her privacy. He was never too far away though.

Sansa tried to help him in any way she could, to make his burden with her more bearable. She didn't know much about living in the outdoors but she did know edible plants. Often times when he would return with rabbit or a small pig she would have gathered herbs from the surrounding forestry and occasionally berries or other kinds of fruit. She had been educated in them by her father and Maester Luwin from the time she was quite small.

She smiled to herself as she thought on Winterfell and her home, her family she would soon be reunited with. Her mother. She missed her mother horribly, wishing she had been the one to travel to King's Landing with them. She would have known what to do. She wondered what her beautiful mother would think of her when they were reunited. It had been nearly three years since she had seen the woman or held her in her arms. She wanted that feeling of comfort again. She felt herself sigh again..,

"Alright, out with it." The Hound said gruffly, making the girl jump at the break in the quiet night. She hadn't expected the man to speak up as he was most often silent. His eyes were regarding her intensely as he waited for an answer. "Well, what's troubling you little bird? You've sighed three times in the last ten minutes and if I hear another I'll have to go find something to kill. So out with it." She smiled a small sweet smile and he felt his heart flutter. He immediately quashed the feeling putting it out of his mind.

"I can't help but feel like something is going to happen. It's like this feeling in the pit of my stomach, sinking. It's the same feeling I felt when Joffery promised to spare my father." She stared into the fire as she spoke to him. The wind blew and the cold it brought with it brought her house words from her, "Winter is coming…."

Sandor didn't know what to say. He didn't want to tell her that everything would be okay and he would have her to her mother soon when he didn't know that they would make it. They were in a car and her brother and mother were the main enemy of Tywin Lannister. "Nothing is guaranteed." Was all he could think to say.

Sansa knew she wouldn't receive a sugar coated answer in her time dealing with the Hound. They were in a war, and we're running from the King. "If we get captured by Lannister-"

"Now that I can guarantee will not happen so don't even fucking say it." He grumbled taking another bite of the rabbit he had caught this evening. He almost looked insulted that she thought that was a possibility.

Her neat brows furrowed slightly in the middle looking poised even in confusion. He almost wanted to throw her in the river and see how poised she was all wet. Then his mind turned more sinful and he had to again shake his head to clear his mind. "Why would capture not be feasible Sandor?" She asked calmly, ignoring his rude manner.

"None of their cunt soldiers can beat me in a fight." He barked at her. He finished his piece of rabbit and threw the bone back into the woods behind him, glaring through the flames at the girl all the while.

"Well maybe not one but what about three? There would be at least three. In fact most search parties would be at least eight wouldn't it? How often do you see soldiers travel with less?" Sansa argued annoyed that he was arguing just to argue, or at least that how it seemed to be to her. It reminded her of someone else she had traveled with not so long ago.

"It would but it would take more than them to finish me." He bit out.

She smiled at him a little broader and held back a giggle. "You're pride may get us killed all on its own."

A snort escaped him. "It isn't false pride. I know what I'm good at and it's killing. Always has been."

She felt her eyes roll and inwardly scolded herself only halfheartedly at the unladylike behavior. "Well thank the gods the best killer in all the lands decided to take me home."

He could see she was teasing but only partly. She was grateful and had shown him through their short trip thus far in little ways like mending his cloak, washing things, brushing down Stranger. She was a smart mouthed little thing when she opened up a little and quit being who she was supposed to be. He let his grin spread wide. "For all the little lady you pretend to be you're a smart mouthed little brat."

She couldn't stop her laugh and he found it to be intoxicating. He wanted to make her laugh all the time. It sounded like sweet bells. "My sister always used to tell me I was a tart little twit."

"From what I hear, and saw myself, she didn't have much room to talk on the matter." He said kindly.

"I suppose not. I miss her more than I thought I ever could. We never got on very well. Really not at all." She didn't know why she was saying all this, the words just seem to fall from her lips. He could see she was upset but he didn't know what it was like to like your siblings seeing as he had wanted to kill his brother since he was just a boy.

"She's probably still alive, that beast sister of yours." He decided finally, to rest her nerves. It wasn't a lie. He thought out of any of the Starks she was the one with the most metal in her veins.

Sansa raises those crystal blue eyes up to meet his own and he saw hope dancing there in the fire light. "Do you really think she could be?" Her voice sounded heavy with emotion and suddenly the Hound felt uncomfortable.

"Aye," he answered honestly. "She'd survive if any Stark would."

"I had a dream last night with her in it. Perhaps the dream is what is making me feel uneasy." Those blue eyes he was growing so attached to took on a distant look as she thought back to her dream. "I was running in the woods and all around me there were beasts and monsters grabbing at me and hurting me as I ran. As I ran I passed a man with the head of a wolf, hung on a castle wall. Then I came to a great ice castle and before it was a great giant. The giant captured me, hurt me and I screamed. When I cried out a howl rang out as well and then I was before a direwolf with bright yellow eyes. She bowed to me and when she lifted her head it was Arya, covered from head to toe in blood." She stopped for a moment, her eyes still unfocused, lost in her dream, reliving the horrors.

"It was just a dream little bird. Dreams don't mean anything until you make them mean something." Came the Hounds reply. He had never been a man of faith, a man to believe in what he could not see.

Sansa sighed again. "I suppose you're right."

xoxoxo

 _Peter Baelish_

He hadn't believed the news initially, dismissing it as silly gossip. Then more and more people began saying the same sad story, that the Hound had turned on his King, had kidnapped sweet Sansa Stark away from the capitol and taken off during the chaos of the Battle of Blackwater. He had made it a point to excuse himself from the city just in case Stannis's attempt on the Capitol had miraculously prevailed. Now though, Lord Baelish wondered if perhaps he had made a mistake.

He had planned on getting Sansa out of King's Landing but had not yet found a way to slip her past Cersei's ever watching eyes. It seemed the King's Dog had simply picked her up and run off, killing any who tried to stop him or completely unbothered in the chaos. He could have just as easily had her taken away in that chaos had he the for thought to do so. Instead he had thought of his safety and fled.

He knew she was not in danger with the Hound, he had made it his business to know any threats to his claim on the Stark. He had see how Clegane would look at the girl when Joffery tormented her. Like he wanted to kill the boy and run to her for a scratch behind the ear. He felt his fist unconsciously clench and immediately corrected the action, not liking the he lost control for even a moment.

He turned to the tower window and looked out over the cliff that was The Eyrie, marveling at the bleek, unforgiving sight that was the steep, fatal fall. His new home was definitely enough to make him feel better at possibly losing Sansa to The Hound. He still believed there was hope for recovering the girl. If his sources were correct, her dear Aunt Lysa, his new wife would be the only family the girl had left to run to soon.

xoxoxo

Sandor

They had made it to the Twins but before they even rode in Sandor knew that he wouldn't be reuniting the little bird with her family tonight. All around him was the smell of death and deceit. He could feel the negative energy in the air weighing down on him like a heavy rain cloud ready to burst. He looked down at the girl who sat in front of him on Stranger, side saddled and proper as she always seemed. She knew she wasn't going home either. The grim look on her pretty features said it all. "Something has happened, hasn't it?" She said, her tone barely above a whisper. She pulled her hood a little closer to her face, hiding her hair as best she could manage.

The Hound didn't say anything at first, instead he listened to the noise coming from beyond the castle walls. It sounded as a feast should, joyous, raucous and full of wine. The sound of men making merry was everywhere around them, until it wasn't. All at once the screams started, hundreds of them screaming. He felt Sansa stiffen at the sounds pouring from that horrid place. The Frey's had broken guest rights and were killing all the Stark men within the walls of their home. "We need to leave." He concluded finally when the howl of the King in the Norths direwolf was silenced forever.

"They could escape. They could be alive still. Is there nothing-" she had started, the tears streamed down her face freely, but Sandor didn't let her finish that thought.

"There is nothing we can do except get you out of here before they figure out you're here.' his voice sounded harsh but in truth he was scared. He was scared they would see him, recognize him and then put two and two together. He wouldn't lose her back to the Lannisters before he got her even halfway home.

Sansa looked torn as she started at the castle with a mixture of fear, guilt and misery. She had come so far and now, now all of it was for not. Below she could hear the screams of her kin and her banners and here she stood, safe with her protector. "I can't just leave them Sandor." Her voice cracked as she felt the tears burning her eyes and face as they continue to fall.

"I wish I could save them for you but honestly, your mother and brother are already dead if their slaughtering the men. There isn't any hope of saving then Little Bird. And if they get their hands on you o doubt I'd be able to save you either. So we're leaving." He said, his voice harder than he had meant but he needed her to understand. She wasn't safe here and he didn't want anyone to find them and try to take her from him. He had to get her far, far away from these monsters. He kicked Stranger and the horse snorted before doing as he was told and started walking again toward the darkness of the forest.

As they road away from the Twins and subsequently her either captured or more likely, murdered family he listened to her cry. She spoke to herself quietly sometimes, voicing her disbelief and pain to herself in soft whispered sobs. Her body shook with her tears and Sandor could not help letting go of the reigns with one hand and placing it on her shoulder in comfort. The words he spoke he did not mean to speak, he just found he couldn't stop himself. "Lady Sansa, I know you're distraught but you are alive. You have a responsibility to your family to survive and to fight for their sake. You must carry on and it will be the most difficult thing that you have ever done. But you must remember one thing." His voice was little more than a hoarse whisper in the silent night, having left behind the screams of the Twins in the hours of their night ride.

"W-what?" Came her small cracked reply. She had cried so that her voice was dry and her eyes no longer held tears. She looked up and him, over her shoulder and they rode Stranger, blue meeting blue.

"You are the Queen in the North, your Grace."

 **AN: Yes I know shorter than they normally are and it was late. I have some one shots over 10k words to be released as soon as I can finish editing them and the next chapter of TATW will not be such a long wait this time as I'm editing it as well. This one was hard for me to get right. But I had to catch her up to the other Queen in the North lol. The next chapter we move back to Arya and Gendry for a time. As always feedback is appreciated and if anyone is interested in betaing please feel free to message me.**

 **Also there is a snipette in here taken from the books. Can you find the partial piece?**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six: A Hunting We Will Go**

xoxoxox

Arya

Arya watched the whores as they danced through her company while delivering food and ale, each making sure to touch each and every man, not necessarily inappropriately, though some were that brash, there were others who simply would place a hand on their arm, or brush their hand with their own. She didn't understand the appeal of the women who sold themselves to any man with the right amount of copper or gold. She had never understood any dealings between women and men other than friendship and fighting. She was told time and time again she would understand when she was older but she had yet to understand. Sometimes she wondered if her mother was supposed to have given her some secret of womanhood that she hadn't been old enough for before she left with her father to King's Landing.

She sighed and took another drink of the wine she had gotten past Lord Beric. He never let her drink, and though she didn't usually care to drink wine, when he had forbidden it she had made it a point to drink when she could, just out of spite. They had stopped here to rest and so she could have "a proper night's sleep and bath as a Queen deserved", as Lem had said. She knew it was a lie. The men wanted to see the women of the Peach, it had been a while since they had seen them, so when they came passing any excuse was good enough for them to stop.

Gendry hadn't wanted to stay at the whore house and opted instead to head to whatever forge like building he could find, and Lord Beric had gone with him. It wasn't that she was upset that Gendry didn't want to stay at a whore house, but by not staying at the whore house he wasn't staying with her and that annoyed her. Lord Beric had insisted that Arya stay at the Inn with Thoros and Anguy as her watchers. _Some watchers_. She thought to herself as both were ears deep in the tits of their own whores. She knew why Beric had made her stay here, well two reasons really. He could never seem to get over her sleeping beside Gendry. He always thought it inappropriate and took any opportunity he could to force Gendry to separate himself from Arya every chance he could. At least that is how it seemed to Arya.

With a sigh she took the last sip of her sour wine and continued just watching her men act like fools. Many had spent all their money on the women before they had even lifted their skirts, and wasn't that the whole point? The whole scene didn't make any sense to the girl.

A woman chuckling turned her attention to her left where she saw a woman who had eyes that looked very close to Gendry's color, bright blue and framed with heavy dark lashes. She was indeed laughing at Arya. "Find something funny did you?" the wolf snapped, glaring daggers at the woman.

The whore was unfazed, smiling prettily at Arya as she put her hands in front of her heavy chest as if in surrender. "No m'Lady, not funny, adorable is all. You are so innocent it is sweet to see, especially in a place like this."

One of the other girls chimed in before being captured by one of the men again playfully, "Oh Bella, she ain't no Lady that one. That one is a Queen the men say."

Bella raised one dark eyebrow and looked at Arya again with a look of disbelief. "Begin' your pardon then, your Grace. I wasn't aware we were serving royalty tonight." She dipped into a small curtsy that was better than any Arya had ever managed.

"Don't call me your Grace or my Lady. Just call me Arya." The wolf child snapped, not wanting to deal with being a Queen without Gendry there to help her. She didn't feel like a queen, sitting in a whore house surrounded by strangers and the drunken brothers. She felt out of place and lost more here than when she was in the forest.

"As you wish. Where are you queen of anyway if you don't mind me askin'?" Bella casually slid down into the seat next to Arya, her expression and body language open. There was something about Bella that put Arya a little more at ease than the others. She was different.

"The North they tell me." Arya looked at the woman next to her and saw that she was what most men chased. Pretty face, long, black hair, a full chest and wide hips. She was what femininity was.

"Ah. You're the Stark girl they thought dead so long. They say you're risen from the dead when your family was wronged at the Red Wedding, like a demon." Bella reached out and brushed the girls short hair behind her ear. "But you're much too pretty to be raised from death. You've been alive this whole time I reckon."

"Do not make fun in calling me pretty. You're right though, I was never dead." Arya rolled her eyes at the compliment. She'd never been pretty.

The woman next to her raised an eyebrow at her and then looked from her to her companions, scattered in the tavern. Not one woman was among them. "You don't have a hand maid? Not even one?" she asked skeptically.

"I don't need any maids, I am more than capable of caring for myself."

Bella turned again to the girl and looked at her fully. She was young, not yet a woman. She was small and she was boyish. "I don't mean to offend you. I am merely asking because you are approaching an important time in a young woman's life. To deal with that change with only men would be…." she didn't know how to finish her thought. It was obvious that the girl did not have any female influence presently. She could tell by how unkempt the young queen was, with wild, rough hair and dirt on her face. She was being raised by men and expected to become a queen. "Oh poor child. You haven't a chance." Her voice held humorless laughter. She reached out her hand again and cupped the girls face gently, almost maternally.

Arya could see that Bella was comfortable with touching strangers, it was part of her job description after all, but Arya had only been comfortable with Gendry now that Hot Pie was gone. She did not touch others unless it was to hit or hurt, and Bella's easy touches made her uneasy. She pulled her face out of Bella's grip. "Why do you keep touching me?"

"I dunno. Jus' wanted to I suppose. I have always been a grabby thing, ever since I was a wee little babe." The woman snickered and continued to fuss over Arya, brushing fingers through her hair, and petting her back softly. "Come on. You need a proper bath. I'll take care of you." She stood from her spot next to Arya, looking at the young girl with something Arya hadn't seen in a long time. _She is looking at me like my mother used to when she wanted to be nice._ Arya thought sadly.

"I am capable of bathing and caring for myself, thank you." Arya said sternly, not standing or even turning toward Bella, only looking at her from the corner of her eye, keeping her walls firmly in place.

Bella laughed again, surprising the Northern girl. "Aye, I am sure you can, and I am also sure you've been takin' care of yourself for a long time. But," she paused, and placed a hand on Arya's shoulder, wanting to convey what she felt before continuing, "That doesn't mean you should've had to so young, child." Arya sat rigidly, trying to ignore her words but Bella continued on. "Come with me. Let's get you cleaned and fed properly."

Arya sat still a moment longer before turning and looking at Bella fully. Her eyes were what drew Arya's gaze though, they were bright blue, like summer sea and full of honest intent. She wanted to help her, even in this small way. She was different than the others. She reminded Arya of Gendry the way she was looking at her.

Finally, after a moment of silence between the two, Arya stood. She followed the patient Bella up the stairs to the room she had been given for the evening, chewing her bottom lip anxiously the whole time.

xoxoxoxo

Gendry

He had missed the sing of the steel, the heat of the air, the weight of the hammer. He had missed the feeling of truly accomplishing something that could be seen immediately, not pouring over cryptic scrolls dully written by Maesters long since dead. Gendry let his hammer fall against the sword once more before setting it down and moving the weapon to the water. With a swift thrust the sword was fully submerged and steam filled the small room.

The forge here wasn't large and was a good distance from the rest of their party, but it was peaceful in comparison to the loud tavern and brothel. Gendry hated that Arya had been forced to remain at the inn rather than just staying in the forge with Lord Beric and himself. He couldn't understand why Beric was so against the two staying with each other throughout the night. Arya was a child and he was little more than one himself, no matter how large he was it didn't change his age. Nothing had happened and as far as he knew nothing would.

He couldn't lie to himself and say he didn't care for Arya in a way that would be considered improper. He would never be worthy of her, born of not only noble blood, but some of the oldest noble blood that could be found. She was also only a girl, a child still and his sinful nature shone through his thoughts, with his unsuitable desires of her. He wondered at times what he really felt for her. He didn't want her as a man wants a woman, not really, not how it had been explained to him by other men. What he wanted from her felt deeper than what he felt for a girl he thought easy on the eyes, it felt different than how he had loved his mother or Master Mott's wife and daughter. No, it was something he had never known. It had grown slowly over the years the two had been together. It had grown from sorrow and strife and blood. They had survived more than many had lived through and they did it together.

When she lost her family, after he had nearly abandoned her, he felt a pain deep in his chest and realized that he was feeling her pain. He wanted to help her, to keep her safe and give her whatever she needed. He had meant his promise to her, that he would be hers. He thought back to that day when she had come to him with the revelation that he was the bastard heir to the Iron Throne. _"We will survive and we will fight for us. We are family."_ She had been very pretty that afternoon, hair and skin still damp from their swim in the creek, her face clean of any dirt.

He shook his head as if to shake his last thought free. Those were the thoughts that would get him into trouble. He didn't know how to stop them though. She was his most trusted friend and she looked out for him better than even he did or could. She would never let anything happen to him if it was in her power to prevent it. She had killed for him before and he had no reservations that she would again. Her loyalty was one of the many qualities he admired in her, along with her bravery and sense of self.

There was one thing he would protect Arya from completely throughout this mess of a war. He would not let anyone use her as a pawn. He would not let her be married off. He knew that was what she most feared and he could understand why. For her marriage would be nothing but a slow death sentence. She would be forced into a dress, into a castle which would be no better than a cage to her, and into some man's bed to give him brats. The thought made Gendry's blood run hotter than the air in the forge. No, as long as he would somehow be addressed as king, none would make her wed, none would make her change at all. She would remain as she was, as she had always been, a fierce wolf of the North. He liked to pretend that this act was all for her, but deep down he knew better. He knew he was buying himself more time.

He took a drink of water from the flagon sitting beside the door, as far from the fire as it could be. It wasn't cold but it was cooler than he had expected and was refreshing. He had work to do and sitting thinking wasn't getting any of it done. He had a present to make and only two days to do it.

xoxoxoxo

Bella

The girl was skinny, far too skinny in Bella's opinion. She didn't look starved but she did look like she had been starved not long ago. She had little scars littered across her skin, some fresh some old. She had never been a damsel it seemed. Her hair was unevenly cut and not taken care of and her nails looked like a blacksmiths, covered in dirt and grime. She was short for her age and fairly undeveloped, or maybe she was younger than she acted. Bella would guess she was close to fourteen based on how she spoke and held herself, but her lack of womanly knowledge gave the impression she was younger. "How old are you your Grace?" Bella asked as she watched the girl climb into the water. Though she was uncomfortable with touching she didn't seem to mind her body. She was truly confident, or perhaps she didn't care what she looked like at all.

"I'll be twelve in a moon or two I think. I'm not sure anymore. And do NOT address me by any titles." Arya said sternly, sinking into the steaming water. She did not relax as the hot water washed over her dirty form. Her shoulders were high, and her eyes flicked across the room, never staying in one place long.

"What're you lookin' for?" Bella asked, honestly curious about what those strange eyes were seeking in the shadows of the cozy room. The woman lifted her skirts and settled herself on the ground beside the small tub that Arya sat in. She grabbed the small rag and bar of soap that lay in a smaller, separate tub made of clay, almost like a basin.

"Nothing. Not really, anyway." The girl replied, sounding quieter than she had down stairs. When she wasn't trying so hard her voice had a raspy tone to it. Her voice would be alluring as she got older.

She was stiff and suspicious and Bella needed to calm her. The same techniques worked on all people to calm them, and children, no matter how suspicious and jaded, were the easiest to comfort, even more so than amorous men. They needed the softness of love and kindness, so they were more willing to accept it. With soft hands she dipped the cloth into the warm water of the bath and gently ran the rag down her back, from her shoulder to the small dimples above her hips. "When I was a lass my mother used to wash me back and hair and I always loved those memories the best." Bella said openly, her voice the only sound besides the water gently splashing. "She would sing to me too. All kinds of songs. She heard a lot of them working here."

"Your mother worked here too?" Arya asked, turning her head a little to look at Bella. She had curious eyes, dark and light at the same time, like the clouds of a thunderstorm and she sounded shocked.

Another chuckle escaped Bella, she had always laughed a lot. "Aye, me mother was a whore here same as I am. There isn't much else for the daughter of a whore to do, unless she can get some man to marry her and take care of her." All the time she began working the soap to a lather and onto the rag to wash the grime from the Northern Queen. "It isn't that way for most highborn's I know but it is the same principal. You can marry a Lord and have his babies or you are a disgrace, but free. Same here, but I have to earn a living somehow."

"Why do you do _that_?" The girl questioned, turning to see Bella a little better. She was opening up, probably because of Bella's blunt honesty. The woman paid no mind and continued cleaning the child.

"Why do I do what?" she replied coyly.

Arya's voice fell flat. "Why do you fuck men for money?"

It took her a moment to regain her composure from Arya's direct questioning. She laughed openly, and fully and had to wipe tears from her eyes after she regained herself. "I suppose it's all I've ever known. It's easy money too. Sometimes it's enjoyable as well."

The girls thick brows furrowed and she looked confused. "I thought it hurt the woman."

Bella smiled prettily again at Arya. "I think that they tell that to young highborns so they won't ruin themselves before they can be sold to the highest bidder. Yes, the first time and a few after hurt but eventually there comes a pleasure and when you're lucky, a deep satisfaction that can't be replaced by any other feeling." Gently she put pressure on Arya's shoulders, forcing her to lie back to wet her hair in the tub.

When the girl rose again she looked even more confused. "What do you mean?" She demanded rather than asked. She was royalty all right, that much was certain.

"Why don't we start at the beginning rather than the end, aye? What do you know about the change you'll have soon?" Bella redirected, wanting to prepare the girl before she was back on the road again with the outlaws.

She seemed to think about it for a moment, truly considering what she knew of what was going to happen to her then she said, "I know I will bleed."

Bella looked away from her scrubbing and raised an eyebrow to the Northerner. "Where will you bleed?" she challenged. Arya didn't know, that much was obvious by her silence and the small blush that crept up her neck and into her cheeks. So it was then Bella explained what would happen to Arya in the coming moons. She explained the pains she had in her legs and breasts, the changes her body would have as well as her moods. She explained that with this there are both powers and consequences as well.

"What do you mean? What power comes with tits?" Arya asked skeptically, having always thought them to be strange and needless, never understanding the allure.

Another barked laugh. "Oh girl, I have not laughed so in ages. You're darling, you are. There are GREAT power in tits, for you though it will probably be more from your bum, and that is something you must learn if you are to be the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms."

Arya shook her head then, water splashing about and speckling Bella. "I am only the Princess of the North. Not the Seven Kingdoms. Not the Queen. My sister is elder and was always much better at being a lady than I ever was."

Bella shifted, standing and grabbing the thick towel to dry the girl with, She motioned for Arya to stand and began drying her before helping her out of the slick tub. "I had been told that you were the Queen."

Bella looked upon Arya and saw her face take on a softness that she'd yet to see in the girl, and in those grey eyes a pain so deep it would hit the bottom of the sea. No tears fell, no, it looked to Bella that she had not cried in sometime. "They tell me my sister is dead, taken by the Hound in the Battle of Blackwater. But I know she is alive. I see her in my dreams sometimes. So until I have proof that she is dead I will have them call me Princess, if they must call me anything at all."

Bella finished drying Arya and helped her into a soft robe that was actually Bella's own. It was to large for the girl but it was clean and would do until her clothes could be cleaned or replaced. "You seem to care deeply for your sister."

The girl's face spread into a smirk that held no real humor behind it. "No actually, I hated her even, for a time. But now, all that seems small. My father told me we were two sides of the same coin, despite all out differences."

Bella smiled. "A father is something not all have or had to guide them. It seems he taught you well while he was with you sweet."

Arya's eyes flashed with a warmth before they turned back to being emotionless as steel. Bella only had to wonder what had brought the change in her for a moment before she figured it out.

"From what I understand, the Bastard King, beautiful man he is, is quite taken with you."

"We're friends, Gendry and I. And don't call him The Bastard King. He is a great man and cares more for the people than any other noble." She defended Gendry, all the while, the same confused expression from before came over her features.

"Yes girl, and he loves you more still is what I understand. Or that is what it was made to be by both you and his Grace's men."

"A jest, I am sure. They always tease him for his affection for me." Arya fidgeted slightly, obviously uncomfortable.

"Well, it may become something more with time. He is quite the strapping lad I might say. And you'll see the power of tits when you fill out a bit and he won't leave you be." Bella chuckled and sat Arya down on the bed before sitting behind her. "Have you no luggage?" she changed the subject then, not wanting Arya to become distant again because of her obvious discomfort in speaking on the King.

"I have only what was on my back." Bella's fingers wound into Arya's short unruly hair and began to untangle it gently. The woman looked at the clothes that lay discarded on the floor, ratty and tattered not befitting some one of her station at all.

"I must say, it's strange to meet a noble who has less than a common whore to her name." Bella's voice was gentle when she said it, not wanting to cause her to become defensive. "My mother once told me that only true royals have nothing."

The queen seemed confused, obviously thinking she had meant something different when she brought up her lack of possessions. "You see sweetling, a Queen, a Princess and even a King can have nothing, for they must give everything to their people. Even their life if need be."

"Every royal I have known has been a proper twat." The girl raised a brow at Bella as she questioned her summary of a royal.

Bella snorted again, deciding then and there that she would follow this little Princess to the ends of the Earth . "Well, we ain't had a good royal in sometime. But you and that bastard boy are giving me a fair amount of hope little wolf."

xoxoxoxo

Lord Beric

"I don't understand why I am to remain here while the rest of you run off to hunt down the people who killed _my_ family." The girl argued fiercely as she followed him out the front door of the Peach. All the men were already mounted up, waiting for their commander to join them, if only he could escape the little royals screams.

"It is not safe-" he began but, as was normal when dealing with Arya, he was not allowed to finish.

"My life hasn't been safe since I left Winterfell Lord Beric. If I am the Queen as you say, then I demand to be on this ride." She stomped furiously, her voice holding pure venom.

"I am sorry Arya, you are the Queen in the North but this is the South. I follow King Gendry and he is not here presently so I will use my best judgement." Lord Beric argued.

Her eyes narrowed further. "You know for a fact he would want me there with him, in any battle."

Lord Beric said nothing else and instead, bowed, mounted his horse and began off before the girl could say anything else. They would be gone for three days and he would be free of the child for three days. She would remain at the inn, with Anguy and Harwin to protect her.

"I won't forget this Beric!" Came her furious reply. He was sure she would not forget it either, and she would find some painful way to make him pay. She was always a spitfire.

It wasn't but a few moments later he made it to the forge that Gendry had been held up in for three days and nights. He was standing outside beside his great black horse, huge and fierce waiting on their arrival. When he saw them approaching he mounted his horse and met Lord Beric at the front of the party.

"Where is Arya?" He asked, already knowing the answer when he saw Lord Beric initially. He had been clutching a parcel rather tightly in his lap as disappointment washed over him. Lord Beric never let her come on raids, and Gendry was determined to change that when she got a little bit older. He had to be able to show the men that she was more than capable of handling herself.

"Your Grace, it is not appropriate for a Queen to ride into battle with her men." Came his stiff reply.

Gendry chuckled. "Understand something my Lord, if I am King than I decree that Arya is able to do as she will like. Be it riding into battle with me or sitting by the fire knitting. No one, including you, can tell her not to." He didn't sound angry, only matter of fact toward the whole situation.

Lord Beric wanted to pull out his hair. "Your Grace, I apologize but it is not proper or safe for her in battle. Think of her safety."

"You've never seen her fight. I have. You've never seen what she becomes." Gendry didn't sound angry, though he did sound annoyed. Beric thought of Arya as he saw her, a small girl who had a big mouth and a bad temper. Gendry knew Arya and knew what she became in battle. He had never seen someone so small or so young cause as much damage as the men fighting beside her. She was smart and quick and fierce as a wolverine. "She may be small but she is vicious and wild. She is better with a sword than many men when it is small enough for her to truly lift it. You never saw her with her Needle." The goodnatured smile returned to the young man as he thought on the well made sword the girl had loved so.

"I understand your feelings for her your Grace, but please-" Lord Beric had began but Gendry chuckled lightly, stopping him mid sentence.

"If you do not believe me then you should think back to when you saw the men she killed at the Twins. Or better yet, ask Thoros what he has seen of Arya in the flames." The King of the people said before he turned his horse from Lord Beric and was off toward Anguy. He stopped suddenly and looked over his shoulder at the Lord, still grim. "And please Lord Beric, do not presume you understand at all just how deep my feelings for Arya actually are." He then turned and was off again.

xoxoxo

Bella

She had seen the men coming down the road before the others had but not before the tiny princess had. "Lannister colors." She whispered, more to herself than anyone else. Her left hand twitched at her side, as if searching for something.

It had been eight days, five days too long, since the King and his band of merry men had gone off into the Riverlands to catch and kill Lannister me. Arya had been furious when they had left but during that time Bella had gotten close to the girl and learned that was just her way. She was fond of her royal majesty, no matter how big a pain in the ass she could be. They had grown close in the time Arya had been stranded there, since Harwin and Anguy had left yesterday, to track down their missing party. She had to protect her.

Without another thought Bella grabbed the Princess by the arm and began dragging her harshley back to the Peach. "You must be hidden. If they find you they'll do far worse than kill you." She said to the girl as they tore up the stairs of the tavern, up to the working girls rooms. She pulled Arya all the way to the end of the hall and into the last room on the left. The room she had taken her to every night since she came and saw her that first night. "Do not come out, no matter what you hear, no matter who you hear, do you understand?" The girl nodded but finally looked her age as she stared up at Bella with wide fearful eyes. "No matter what."

"I can help you." She whispered, tears welling up in those grey orbs. Bella realized then that the fear in the girls eyes was not for herself but instead for Bella.

Bella smiled sweetly at the Princess. "I know you can. But right now, please love, let me help you." She cupped the wild girl's face gently, and pressed her lips to her forehead. It was brief and it was small but it was all the comfort she had to offer the child. She pushed her further into the room and pulled away. "Hide yourself." Was the last thing the woman said to the girl before shutting the door and running back down the stairs.

As she stepped on the first floor the Lannister men were walking into the tavern, loudly shouting for ale and cunt. She pretended to laugh, just as the other girls did. Just as they would for any other man. There were about six men total in their party. A scouting party rather than an actual force to be reckoned with. She gracefully sauntered toward who appeared to be the man in charge. A skinny man with an even skinnier sword in his belt. He say surrounded on each side by his men, laughing as one of the bigger men tossed about one of the smaller working girls.

Without invitation she plopped into his lap, letting her round bottom press firmly into the front of his pants in a way she knew he would enjoy. Men like him were all the same. "Can't say we've seen you all here before, stranger." She used her most sultry tone, the one she typically reserved to seal the deal. If the boss was distracted then the men would follow in suit. She pressed her full chest into his and slid one finger suggestively down his chest. "What brings you to us lonely girls?"

He grinned up at her, crooked dirty teeth spread in a sick smile. She didn't pull away, nor did she wretch as she wanted to, instead she pretended to love his attention. "We're hunting a wolf that has been supposedly seen in this area, by order of Lord Tywin. Seems this is a place the the traitorous Brotherhood frequent." His voice sounded dark and twisted, as he reached down and pulled her more fully onto his lap.

She laughed, playing her part flawlessly. "Many men frequent here Ser, most because they enjoy our services. Then there is always the odd duck here for Jack's cooking." All around them the other girls laughed as if on cue. It was all well rehearsed, all the same dance they were used to doing. The men all joined their laughter, all except the man between her thighs.

"Funny girl." He said, moving his hand up her thighs, to her hip, where he squeezed almost painfully. "So where's the little she wolf hidden whore?" He asked Bella directly, looking at her with dark eyes.

It was in an instant the air shifted from laughing and playful banter between the men and the whores to brutal and forceful. Bella could hear the other girls cry out as they were snatched up by the Lannister men. "I don't know what your talking about Ser." She answered meekly, feigning fear as he gripped her hip in a way she knew would leave a mark. She refused to cry out. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

"I think you know exactly what I'm talking about. Search the place, find the girl." he stood then and pulled her up roughly. Bella bit down on a cry of pain. If she cried out Arya may hear and knowing that head strong thing she would attempt to rescue her. _Please stay little wolf_.

"I'll search upstairs with this one here to show me around." All around the Peach was torn to pieces as they searched for Arya. They searched everywhere downstairs as she was dragged upstairs by their leader to search the second floor. He stopped suddenly and turned to two of his men, shouting, "You two help me upstairs. I'm sure they'll be lots of places to hide in an establishment like this one here."

xoxoxo

Arya

She sat on the roof of the Peach, just outside of the window. She listened carefully, as the girls began to shout and scream. She squeezed her fist as tight as she could, feeling her nails straining against the callouses on her palms. She felt like a coward, hiding on the roof while the women who had housed her time and time again took abuse at her expense. She heard dishes being broken and tables being toppled over. Fabric tearing soon followed and cries poured out of the once happy tavern. All Arya could think was that she was the cause of all of this.

Then everything got worse than she could have ever imagined. There was the sound of the door in the room Bella had brought her to slamming open with a bang. She heard the soft cries of a very familiar voice. _Not Bella…_ Arya bit down on her bottom lip to hold in her cry. She heard someone being thrown into the room and crashing into the small dresser in the room. "We've run out of rooms love. Now is the last chance that you will get to give up that little wolf bitch and save your own fine ass." She knew that voice.

Her heart skipped a beat. She peaked around the corner into the room and she saw him standing over a beaten and bloody Bella. Polliver. Her face was bruised and there was a cut on her right eyebrow. Her dress was torn and now all that was left was part of her skirts and the corset that had been beneath. She looked up at him with blue eyes bright with a fury Arya had only see in one other pair of eyes. "So you can open up that pretty mouth and tell me what I want to know, or-" he stopped and began to undo his trousers and moved in front of Bella. He dropped his belt to the ground to his right, a skinny sword falling with it. "You can do what you do best with that mouth and open up wide." He laughed as he reached out and grabbed the woman by the back of her head, fingers gripped in her long black hair.

Arya couldn't watch and do nothing any longer. She could not hide herself away, not now, not when Bella was here being assaulted by Polliver, a man that had been on Arya's list for sometime now. Silently she crept back through the open window. Luckily, his back was turned to her as he continued to batter poor Bella. "It's not like it's nothing you ain't done before you filthy whore." He said callously.

Arya caught Bella's eye as she approached the two slowly, like a predator approached its prey, her mind focused and mouth watering in anticipation. Blue met grey for but a moment and upon seeing the look on Arya's face Bella knew what she planned to do. She smiled and began to laugh at the man as he took his cock from his pants and shoved her face towards it none to gently.

"You stupid fool." She laughed her big laugh that echoed on the walls and all around them. "You don't even know what you've done."

Polliver was instantly enraged, thinking she was laughing at his manhood. His hand left the back of her head and moved to her throat instantly. "You think something is funny do yah, yah fucking whore? I'll teach you a lesson of humor. When I'm done, I'll give you to the boys, and when they're done, well let the horses have a go." He was too close to Bella's face and finally, Arya saw red.

She bent down and grabbed her Needle, discarded on the floor with his belt. Quiet as a shadow she unsheathed the sword, savoring the weight of it in her palm. She had missed the tiny blade so. "Allow me to teach you something Polliver." She said then, her voice scratchy and hoarse from biting back her rage. She then flicked the sword out and swiped behind both of the man's knees before he could turn around, effectively bringing him to the ground.

Arya could hear Bella gasping for breath, coughing loudly from the pain in her throat. She would deal with Bella soon, for now though she had to finish this sick little twat. "You think you can prey on women? On the weak?" Her eyes had become cold, as cold as the ice in her homeland. Her voice sounded alien even to her own ears as she stepped forward, wanting to finish the man slowly.

"What's the matter boy, something wrong with your leg?" She mocked stepping toward him again as he backed away fearfully staring up at the Northern girl.

"You psychotic bitch. Men!" He started shouting only to have a piece of fabric forced into his mouth, muffling his scream. Arya looked past him to see Bella, a strip of cloth in both her hands fighting the man. Arya grinned and moved forward quicker.

"Can you walk? I've got to carry you?" She looked frightening now she knew. She could feel the change in her. She could feel the beast, the devil that lived inside of her body, whispering to her about vengeance and blood. She knew her eyes looked frightening, she knew the smile that crept onto her face was fearsome, she could see it all in Pollivers wide, frightened eyes. Bella held tightly to the strip in his mouth as he lashed about, agonized from the wounds to his legs. The woman watched the girl in both awe and fear.

The Wolf raised Needle and looked at it as if seeing it for the first time. "Funny little blade." She said as she looked up the length of Needle and for once, rather than seeing dear Jon's smile, she saw blood and death. She turned her ice eyes back to Polliver, her smile turning savage and toothy, like the snarl of a wolf. She lowered the blade and said "Maybe I'll pick my teeth with it." As she drove her blade through the man's throat, in the same way he had killed Lommy what seemed like ages ago.

Arya watched as the blood poured from both the wound in his neck and mouth. Bella let go of the fabric stood up, grabbing onto the wall for support as she too took in the scene. Arya glanced at Bella and there she saw horror at what had just happened. She looked down at the dying man, drowning in his own blood and saw her revulsion at the sight. The woman immediately moved across the room, behind the Wolf as she reveled in her kill.

Only watching a moment longer, just long enough to see the light fade from the man's eyes and his body to become limp and pale, did Arya stand there. She turned quickly to Bella and said, "I have to help the others."

Bella sobbed. "No! No, no. You can't Princess. Already, this, is horrible." She reached out and gently grabbed Arya's cheeks. "Please hide. Please."

Arya's eyes were still hard as steel and still she felt the demon clawing at her insides, begging to be sated in only one way. With blood. "No. That's not me." She pulled away from Bella as she continued to cry, the blood from her wounds mixing with the tears that fell from her eyes. "I have to fight Bella."

She didn't say another word as she turned from the woman and stepped over the corpse that was once Polliver. She made her way into the hallway and heard another man searching a room two doors a head and on the left. She made her way to the door and gently pushed it open. The Wolf saw the man brutally beating another of the girls that worked in the Peach. She felt the devil within her hum with need as she drug her bloody blade toward her next victim.

 **A/N: This one was a little quicker to get out. Let me know what you think and as always, reviews are always a welcomed treat. And again, I am needing a Beta so if anyone is interested just shoot me a PM.**


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: Hello. Another chapter done. This is late because of a broken laptop so I am sorry on that one.**

 **Also, fair warning everyone, this is Game of Thrones and no one has died in a chapter or more.**

 **Chapter Seven: Things That Go Bump In The Night**

xoxoxo

Gendry

Gendry rode as hard as he could, driving his horse to keep pace with Lord Beric. They had to reach the Peach before they found her, before she was lost to him. He spurred the horse faster again, squeezing the reins tightly in his shaking hands.

They had captured one of the mid level officers of Lord Tywin's personal army during their raid. He had a letter on him from Lord Tywin himself confirming something Gendry had feared in the bleak and desolate walls of Harrenhall. He knew Arya. He knew who she was at the great scorched castle and he knew when she had escaped. He was searching for her now, armed with the knowledge of her actual appearance. He knew she disguised herself as a boy. He knew she looked more of an urchin than a lady, and he knew that she was more clever than most young ladies.

The letter had also said they should look for the wolf at the ripest peach tree in the woods. They knew where she was and were actively hunting her.

He could have killed Lord Beric for leaving her behind, followed by himself for allowing it, but instead he just followed the man as he tore back to the brothel. Gendry prayed to any god that would hear him to protect her from harm, to keep her safe until he got there. He should have known that no god could keep Arya Stark from danger, it was like the force that pulled one to the Earth, inescapable.

There were women crying all around the outside of the whore house as Jack pulled bodies out the door and into the yard. Gendry jumped from his horse stumbling slightly. He grabbed the first woman he came to, a plump young girl with yellow hair. She cried when he grabbed her and he gently shushed her momentarily before asking desperately, "Where is she? Where is Arya?" He could hear the tremble in his own voice but he couldn't bring himself to care. He was horrified that he had lost her.

The woman sobbed again and fell from Gendry's grasp to the soft ground. He took that as a bad sign and turned quickly, tearing into the tavern. "Arya!" He screamed, fear fully present in his voice.

He looked around at the scene in the Peach, women crying and cleaning blood off of every surface. The tables, chairs, the ground and walls. All around there were streaks and puddles. To Gendry it looked as if an army had painted the walls with their blood. He began to feel sick, when his mind began to wonder if any of this blood was Arya's.

"You look like you're going to be ill." He heard a familiar and needed voice quip from behind him. He turned and there she was, covered in blood, though he couldn't say that it was hers. She looked like a demon of death, beautiful and cunning. Covered in the blood of her enemies, starting at her mouth, painting her lips crimson and going to the tips of her toes, it coated most of the front of her person. Her shirt was torn open and barely covered her anymore, her exposed chest stained. He then noticed something at her side which had been missing for sometime. _Needle._

It wasn't a moment later that half the rest of their band of merry men burst in through the open door of the Peach and saw her just as he did, a warrior, tried and proven.

He was to her in an instant, stepping over a dead Lannister soldier in the process. "Are you hurt?" Gendry asked and he crushed her to his chest, blood and all. He pulled back quickly and began looking at her arms, her hands, her face, anywhere he saw blood, trying to discern if it was hers or not.

She swatted his hands away, something she had never done, not really anyway. Gendry watched as she wrapped her arms about herself in a way she had never done, covering her chest and looking a different kind of hurt than he knew. "A little, but I am fine. I just need some stitches. Bella needs a doctor now though." Her voice was full of fear, breathless and desperate for help.

"What happened here Arya?" Came Lord Beric's worried, commanding tone as she began to turn back toward the doors to the kitchen, where Gendry assumed she appeared from.

"I can explain after we take care of Bella. Now help me!" She shouted over her shoulder, not bothering to look back at the man who addressed her.

Deciding it was best to just do as she said rather than arguing, they followed her where they found the beautiful Bella, his half sister, he had learned on the road with the Brothers, with a horrible wound to her belly, pouring blood. Arya knelt beside the woman and took her hand but her eyes never left Gendys. "She needs help or she will die." her voice was higher than he had heard in a long time. She cared for the woman, deeply.

Bella laughed and then coughed, grabbing at her wound as pain wracked her form. "Sweet Wolf, there is no help for me. Not even the best doctor could– save me at this point." She looked at Arya with such warmth that Gendry felt his heart squeeze at the sight. The wolf seemed to have the same sort of affect on this woman as she had had over him. _Our fathers_ blood. "You must let the Stranger take me."

Arya's fist balled and she clenched her eyes together, biting back tears. "Why did you do that? Why did you take that blade? I would have been fine!" She cried angrily. She was sad and hurt and so very young. Gendry placed a hand on her shoulder gently only to have it shrugged off. "You stupid woman." Arya bit out, coming as little more than a harsh whisper.

Bella smiled again, and let her hand intertwine in Arya's resting above her bleeding wound. "Remember what I taught you, what little time I had with you. I would have liked very much to have taken you up on your offer and left this pit with you, my Princess." She took a jagged breath, her eyes fading slowly, the bright and familiar blue light dimming. "You saved all of these women. _You_ did this. You did something I had never seen when you fought those men. They will worship you for it."

"I couldn't even save you!" Arya yelled, her heart breaking again and the tears finally falling. How many more deaths could she take? How many more people could she lose until there was nothing where her heart had once been? Gendry shuddered at the thought and looked away from the two, feeling as though he was intruding on something that was meant to be private.

"You saved them all. One lost life is so little in comparison. And because of you, I was able to do something worthwhile with my life. I protected you." Bella said, her voice growing weaker and weaker with each word.

"I wish you wouldn't have." Aryas voice was barely registered by Gendry's ears, sounding more a broken sob than actual words. She looked more defeated than he had ever seen, even when they were starving and prisoners.

Bella chuckled softly and her beautiful blue eyes closed for the last time as she said to the Wolf, "I could do nothing to help these women. You will do more than that. You can save the kingdom. God, save the Wolf." were the last words that passed her lovely lips.

It was then that the last of the life that had remained in Bella bled onto the floor and her spirit left her body. Arya just sat and held her for sometime before she jolted up, as if struck by a bolt of lightning. "Thoros. Where is Thoros?" She asked quickly, eyes moving from Bella's still form to Gendry.

The man shrugged and looked around himself as Arya began shouting for Thoros. The red priest made his way through the groups of men helping here and there until he came before Arya and Gendry, seated on the floor in Bella's blood. "You called for me Princess." He said with a bow, fighting to gawk at her appearance.

"Bring her back to life." Was all Arya said as she stared down at the lifeless woman that had been Bella. She looked so young yet so fearsome, covered in blood sitting there holding on to Bella's hand, steadily growing colder.

Thoros looked at Arya sadly and shook his head. "It does not work that way little wolf. It is not I that brings them back but the Red God."

Arya's eyes turned hard, as Gendry had seen many times before, stormy clouds bleeding to hardened steel. "So pray to your damned god and bring her back!" she screamed at the fire priest, baring her teeth as if she was snarling at him.

Thoros looked heart broken as he looked down at the feral girl, barely containing the guttural growl within her. She looked savage even to Gendry. Thoros turned his blue eyes to Gendry's in a desperate and silent plea for help. The last stag reached out carefully and placed his large hands on her small shoulders. "Arya, he can't, is what he is trying to tell you." Gendry said gently, trying to pull her into him, to give her the comfort she desperately needed.

"He won't even try! She is dead because she saved my life Gendry. I am the reason this happened at all, because I was left here!" Her voice was high and loud and teetering on the edge of sane thoughts and mad reasonings. She dropped Bella's hand and tore at her short hair, pulling harder than she should have ever. "It's my fault that she is dead!"

Gendry knew now what he needed to do. He had to get her away, from Bella, from everything. She had to calm, she had to breathe. He had to make her see sense. His hands fell from her shoulders and dipped to her tiny waist, grabbing her roughly before tossing her over his shoulder. Her screams started almost instantly. She slammed her hands down on his back with surprising strength. He didn't listen, nor did he let her blows bother him. He just kept walking. He didn't listen Lord Beric shouting at him, or Harwins questioning of what he was doing. No, he ignored them all and carried Arya right into the forest where they had spent nearly a year of their lives together, where he knew she felt most at home now.

He walked a good while and she fought him the whole time, kicking and clawing. Finally, when she bit him, he dropped her to the forest floor with a shout of pain. "You bit me." It was a statement more than a question.

"I do what I have to to survive. Why didn't you make him try? Why did you just let her die? She saved me." Arya raged at him. Her emotions were conflicted. She was sad but she let it out in anger, blaming herself even when there was nothing to be done.

"Arya calm down and talk to me! It's me!" Gendry shouted, hand nursing the mark on his shoulder from her teeth.

"Yes, you! You! And you left! Again!" Aryas anger grew still as she stared at him, pools of shimmering silver pinning him where he was. He had seen her cry but not like this.

He took a deep breath and began to explain, "Lord Beric was supposed to have brought you." He had expected her to be angry at him for that bit.

"He didn't though did he? And you didn't come back for me. You were gone eight days with them, and it's been ten since I had seen you, since I wasn't allowed to wander about. You didn't even say goodbye." She bit her lip and took a deep breath of air. She swiped at her eyes, angrily wiping the tears from her cheeks. "You promised me we would stay together. You promised we were family. But family doesn't abandon you with strangers, assuming that you would be safe!"

Gendry felt as though she had physically struck him with her words. He hadn't gone back for her. He hadn't thought of it. He hadn't thought of truly going against what Lord Beric decreed. Why did he listen to others when it came to Arya? "Arya I'm sorry." He said finally, not knowing what else to say, having no excuse but lack of thought. He knew it counted for nothing, she had been through another near death experience and another great loss because of his lack of thought. "I hadn't-"

She huffed angrily and gnashed her teeth, speaking through them as she spoke. "Save your apologies. I don't need them. I need you to understand that we are in a war. If I can't trust you to protect me than I have nothing. And without me, neither will you." She turned then and tore into the woods, running deeper and deeper until he could no longer see her small form.

xoxoxo

Lord Beric

All around the room tales of what had happened and how the Northern child had saved them all, practically alone. The working girls told the tale again and again, each one adding a portion that had been forgotten or not seen by the others. The men all gathered about and listened in awe of the little wolf, and her defeat of six grown and trained Lannister soldiers.

"She saved Bella first, climbing through the window and stabbing him with his own sword."

"Margy said that the Wolf helped her next, pulling the brute off her with strength none would imagine from such a tiny thing."

"That's when she let out that howl that froze the other men in their place. We heard the last man fall to the floor from up stairs, and then the blood started to come from the ceiling, dripping onto the bastards heads."

Lord Beric watched as Gendry stared out into the woods from his spot by the window at the front of the tavern. All the women had told Gendry of Arya's bravery and her skill and he had asked each question after question about the girl while she was gone. Now that he had heard each of their tales, and made sure each was alright from the attack before he moved to the window to watch and wait for the Princess, really the Queen to return.

Dondarrion sat down in the seat beside Gendry, who seemed to be doing his best to ignore him. He let the silence hang in the air, waiting for Gendry to speak first. It did not take long, as Beric had known it wouldn't.

"She could have been killed because I left her." His voice was low but the anger was evident. His eyes looked like lightning as he raised them to glare at Lord Berci, and the man could swear he felt a jolt from the intensity of the Kings gaze.

"I can only apologize my King. I did what I thought was best for her." Lord Beric was sincere in his apology and his explanation for his actions. He only wanted to keep her safe, to keep her from harm, yet danger seemed to follow these two like a dark cloud, hovering constantly. "I truly believed that she was safer here than with us on the road."

Gendry laughed loudly, as if truly amused at the statement. "And now? Now that you see what she can do, and has been doing for years? What now my Lord?" He gestured to all the woman dancing about, the freshly scrubbed walls and even the few bits that had somehow managed as high as the ceiling.

Lord Beric didn't know how to answer because in truth he still thought it wrong that she was capable of such acts of violence. He thought back to that morning in the Twinns and their encounter with the Frey men and her savage murder of them both. He thought back to the snarling beast she had become at that moment. "Honestly majesty, I am not sure. Women are the gentler sex, who are to be protected above all else. It is very disconcerting to see not a woman, but a girl, capable of such frightening acts. She is something different. Something - savage."

Gendry looked confused. "She saved all these women at risk of her own life and you call it a frightening act?"

Lord Beric nodded. "It's not the saving of the women but the brutality in which they were saved. It is not normal for a lady of any standing to be capable of these kinds of acts."

"I disagree. Based on her heritage."

Lord Beric looked at Gendry skeptically while he continued to smile smugly at the older man. "You've been reading of Northern Queen's in your lessons?"

"In fact, I have. And from what I've read, Arya is of one of the oldest, most Nobel houses in all of the Seven Kingdoms. There is long legacy of warrior Queens in the North, during the long winter's. And in Dorne as well." Gendry argued, enjoying have a true education on the matter he was arguing.

"You've been conspiring with Thoros I see." Lord Beric grumbled, taking a long pull of his drink, welcoming the burn. "He is not from this land and has very different thoughts on women."

"Thoughts I tend to agree with." Gendry said matter of factly. He looked at Lord Beric then with no anger or malice in his expression, as if he had pushed it to the side. "There are many things I plan to change if we succeed in usurping the throne from the Lannisters."

Lord Beric saw his King then for the man he was becoming, fair and mostly even tempered. A good man. A strong leader and defender of the weak. But when he saw Gendry he also saw Arya's dark shadow following. "It's not that I don't like the girl your Grace. Please understand. There is something dark that lives within her. Any child who can do what she is capable of-"

"Has grown up with more pain and heartache than any should." Gendry finished for Lord Beric, not letting him vocalize his ill thoughts. "Is it that we are born monsters or is it the world that turns us into monsters?" Gendry asked as he turned his attention back into the night, searching endlessly for the girl who had captured him from the moment they'd met.

"A question for philosophical maesters and students my King. I am a man of action. And I know a thing or two about wild beasts. And one of the things I've learned of wild things is that even if you happen to befriend one doesn't mean you can ever tame it your Grace."

It was then a great howl was heard, so loud and powerful it overpowered the menstrals playing. A shiver ran through Gendry. He knew it was his wild wolf. "I have no intentions to try and tame her my Lord. Quite the contrary, in fact."

"Your father thought the same way of the girls Aunt, and it started a rebellion. You fight, not because of your right for the throne, or for your people, but for her sake and protection. You will want to tame her when she begins to look more like her Aunt and drives you as mad as Lyanna did Robert." Lord Beric said sadly as the howl ended, his eye looking haunted in the dim light.

It was quiet for only a moment but it was obvious that Lord Beric had struck a chord with the young king. "No good has ever come from a Baratheon loving a Stark."

Then a chorus of howls erupted outside. From the sound there were hundreds of wolves responding to the lone howl. The noise poured through the window, washing over everyone and scarring several of the women.

xoxoxox

Arya

She ran and ran until her legs and lungs burned with a fire far fiercer than any she had felt since being on the run with Gendry. When she came to a small stream she fell into the cold water, splashing loudly. She washed the blood from her body and clothes vigorously, scrubbing at it till her skin was raw and painful. She ripped her clothes from her body and scrubbed every inch of herself, letting herself mourn her loss of her dear friend Bella.

Though their friendship had been short, it had been honest, which was far more important than the length of time they'd known one another. Bella had answered Arya's question and treated her as an adult, fully capable of making her own decisions. She had shown Arya respect and in turn, gained it from the princess. She didn't care about what was proper or right. The woman had taught her of things her mother should have but never would have, being far too improper to speak on. Bella had been more of a sister than Sansa had ever been in their time together. And now she was gone.

Bella was gone and it was because of her. She had driven herself between the man who had been going to kill Arya, who had been going to rape her before she had taken a chunk of his neck out with her teeth savagely. When he had dropped her he had grabbed his sword and went to stab her as she lay in pain on the ground, spitting out blood that wasn't her own, and Bella had thrown herself in front of Arya, more than likely saving her life.

And Gendry. She bit down hard in anger as she thought of her bull. He had left her. He had left her defenseless, whether he had meant it or not. She had been alone and vulnerable and someone had died because of it. He was supposed to be her greatest protector in a world full of people who wanted her for the power that came with her name and instead he had run off at the first chance he got, a King listening to a mere Lord on her inability to defend herself because of her gender. And she had saved his sorry ass more than once!

Arya felt her body shaking with barely contained rage. She let her voice pour out in an otherworldly howl, releasing all her hurt and anguish and hate from within. The sound echoed into the night and all around her she could hear her own pain. When her voice finally stopped, unable to hold out any longer, the silence that followed seemed unnatural. No sound could be heard, no babbling from the, water she sat naked in, no rustling of the leaves in the wind or insects humming. Just silence.

It stayed that way for a time, where there was no noise and no movement. Arya felt herself breathing in and out but could not hear the breath she took. Then all at once a long and powerful howl responded to her own, followed by another and another until the night was loud with the howls of wolves. She listened as they sang, sounding both far away and near at the same time.

Suddenly she felt a pull deep within her. She felt as though something was calling to her, beckoning her further into the forest. Her mind felt foggy and her limbs felt heavy as she pulled herself up from the shallow water. She stumbled to the other side of the stream and into the beckoning woods. Her body moved without her minds consent and without her knowing where it was taking her. The wind blew and she felt a shiver run over her form. The howls began again, sounding closer than before, she could almost hear words through the howls.

Then, as if all of the sudden she was there, before a Heart Tree. There was no face carved into the bark of the tree, no red sap crying from its eyes. She could see it though, with bark as white as snow, and leaves red as blood. She reached out and touched the great tree and felt a feeling she had only ever felt at her home, in Winterfell, a deep peace.

She didn't know how long she sat before the old tree, praying silently to the god's of her father for the safety of her home. It could have been minutes or hours but she heard a twig snap behind her and she turned quickly to see who dared disturb her. Her eyes widened and new tears sprang from behind her you eyes. "Nymeria?" The girl gasped as she spun completely around and knelt before the great beast.

She was huge, coming to Arya's neck at her shoulder. Her fur was thick and though a little dirty, still gorgeous, full and a mixture of white and grey. She looked down on the Stark with amber eyes glowing in the dim moonlight. Arya felt her throat and mouth go dry as more wolves came from the woods behind Nymeria. There were at least thirty of them, to her right and left and certainly behind her as well, though she didn't turn around to check. She didn't move, could barely breathe as she stared up into Nymeria's.

 _Stark…_ Though she heard the name in her head, she did not think it herself. Her heart rate doubled. Where had the voice come from? Nymeria tilted her head to the side and yipped as if answering her questions for her. "Was that you girl?" Her question sounded stupid to her own ears but sure enough the wolf nodded once in response.

The wind swirled around her again, ruffling her hair and Nymeria's fur, trading their scents to each other. On shaking legs, be it from the chill on her naked form in the cool night air or the great wolf standing before her she could not say. Her whole mind was foggy still as she reached out slowly to Nymeria. The wolf bared her teeth at the advance initially, Arya thought she must have remembered being hit with those rocks. Fresh tears sprang from her eyes as she took in what could be her last living family member.

"I'm so sorry. I had to protect you from them." Arya said in a ragged whisper, her voice still broken from her howls.

 _Pack…_ She heard this time in the back of her mind, in a voice foreign to her. Nymeria quit snarling and eased forward and pushed her now relaxed nose to Arya's outstretched hand. Arya let the wolf come to her, embracing her in a tight and fierce embrace.

All around the two, the wolves howled and it was then that Arya felt something shifting within her. It was small and subtle and she didn't think much of it at the time. Before she knew what had happened she was seeing through the eyes of Nymeria, looking at herself laying on the ground, with eyes white as snow.

 **A/N:** **So I am sorry! I know a bunch of people loved Bella and initially I was going to keep her alive and join with Arya and than I had to think about what would actually, likely happen in the world of Ice and Fire. It only took a minute to think about how almost every character Arya has been close to in the series has died or been taken from her for me to decide that I had to kill her.**


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight: Into the Woods

 _Thoros of Myr_

Thoros smiled knowingly as Lord Beric reentered the Peach, a sour look on his battered features. A smile spread onto the Fire Priest. "I did warn you that it was pointless to try and stop the boy." He said cheekily as Lord Beric slid into the seat across from Thoros and grabbed the waiting cup of ale.

He looked tired and drawn, his hair messier than it usually was and his visible eye bloodshot with dark bags weighing it down. "She is more trouble than she is worth. He has things he should be focusing on, things that would benefit the Realm, and instead he demands to be allowed to search the woods, alone even, with the number of howls we hear each night." he bit out angrily after a moment of consideration.

Thoros merely laughed a full and joyful laugh, but behind it there was a bitterness that took hold of the scene like ice creeping in around them. "Leave them be about each other, Beric. Let them spend their time together. She is good for him." The fire priest's voice was gentle, his mind far away.

Lord Beric looked at the man as if he had grown a third head. Was he mad? Gendry skipped lessons because of this girl, argued when he said something that contradicted her say so, on any matter, and lead him into danger time and time again. She was horrible for the boy! He had a kingdom to consider, a future ruling, and she wouldn't even admit to being a Lady of the Realm, let alone Heiress of the North. Yes, Arya was a lovely and spirited girl who had characteristics that he admired dearly. Truthfully, he rather liked the girl, but Gendry _loved_ the girl and that gave her more power over a King than a girl of ten and two needed.

"You are always so permissive with her Thoros. No matter what she does, from when you first presented her to me onward, you have had a soft spot for the girl." Lord Beric "Tell me, does she remind you of someone you remember fondly?"

Thoros laughed again, booming loudly in the large room. "Alas, I never met a woman or lass that was like the girl. Not even her Aunt was as wild and willful as she is. Nor as capable with a blade." Thoros chuckled again into his cup.

"She is too wild to be a Queen, Thoros. Can you imagine her attending court? He follows her like a pup and she will lead us straight to a bloody death for a child's need for justice."

Slightly glazed blue eyes turned to Beric with a sadness that had been absent then for some time. "She won't be Queen, though none will deserve the title more than her. She is a warrior Queen, who will die for us all." His voice was distant and his eyes had drifted to the fire in the hearth nearest them.

"You've seen her death then? That is why you wish them this time together?" Lord Beric asked, realization washing over him. He didn't wish the girl dead, and if that was her fate then he would be more permissive as well. These were hard times, and joy was rare and fleeting. Guilt rose in the pit of his stomach.

Thoros let his eyes leave the flames and turn back to his oldest friend. Grief colored his gaze and coated the air around him like a thick blanket. "I have seen her kill two Kings, and hand Gendry the crowns, dripping with blood still warm. I have seen her ride with wolves and decimate a battle field with only the _beasts_ , not a man amongst her forces. I saw her stare down one of _them_ , no fear in her being, just the need to save him."

"Is Gendry- is he-" Lord Beric asked, suddenly finding a thousand different correlations which could lead him to think so. He was a blacksmith, just the same. He had the blood of Kings and was more capable than one should be from his station in life.

"Azor Ahai? Aye, I believe he is my Lord." Thoros confirmed, drinking then from his glass. His body had grown heavy it seemed, as his limbs moved slowly with the nearly empty flagon.

Reading Thoros moves Lord Beric assumed the worst. "Arya is-"

"To be stabbed through the heart, yes. I have seen it in the fires."

Lord Beric felt bad for Thoros then, having to see the child die so painfully. He was frustrated with the girl and her childish antics but he would never wish her harmed. "The boy won't survive doing that too her. Not even for the people."

"He doesn't do it." Was the pained reply from the fire priest. He took a deep pull from his drink before looking almost bitterly back into the flames.

"He doesn't claim the burning sword but he is the Prince Promised?"

"He _won't_ do it. She does it herself, to save him. To save us all."

xoxoxoxo

 _Gendry_

He had left the Peach and an angry Lord Beric six hours past and still there was no sign of Arya anywhere. Admittedly, Gendry was not a skilled tracker or huntsman, those were not skills he'd ever needed before his adventures in the Realm, so it was also likely he had missed a trail or sign of her. His eyes looked up towards the canopy but the leaves we so thick that it was hard to tell how late in the day it was truly.

He felt like screaming, he felt like pulling his hair from atop his head. He felt like punching a tree until it fell over. Why did she torture him so? Why would she run away in the woods, filled with beasts and wild things alone? Why would she not speak with him? Look upon his face? She was cruel in her methods of vengeance he decided.

He knew why, and he knew that he only had himself, and maybe Lord Beric, to be angry with. He had left her. After he promised. She had accepted him as he was, bastard and penniless, with nothing to his name, and still she accepted him as family. And all she had asked was that they stay close to each other, look out for each other. A lot of good he had done in that area. He had left her and she had almost been captured by their worst enemy. He almost lost her to them all because he had listened to another instead of her.

He continued his search as he thought back to his time with the little girl. She had not yet steered him wrong. Anytime that she had taken charge of the situation she had seen them out of harm, albeit not always in the least violent or bloody way, but she had made sure he was safe. She was always looking out for himself and even Hot Pie when he had been traveling beside them. She had seen his station in life changed dramatically from bastard blacksmith sold to the Wall to now, a King. Maybe he wasn't a true King, he didn't live in a castle or have servants but what he did have was better than that. He had _her_.

He prayed silently then to any gods that would hear him, to help him find her. He had to find her and apologize. He had to tell her he was wrong and she'd been right, again. He had to endure her lording that over him for weeks, because that was what he deserved. Because if he couldn't find her, he deserved nothing but a swift death for betraying his only family.

xoxoxoxo

 _Small Council_

"They say she killed twenty Lannister men in the Peach, single handed, with a tiny sword she took from the first man she killed. They say she ate some of them!" Joffery paced as he read the reports on the fearsome Arya Stark, who had still eluded capture by his family forces. He was a mess, obviously out of sorts and frantic at the news that the people were saying about the girl and her supposed rebel army.

Tywin pinched the bridge of his nose in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure that had built up behind his eyes. "She didn't kill twenty men in the Peach." He said sternly, purposefully dropping "your Grace". His aggravation with Cersei's eldest son was obvious on his features.

"Were you there, Grandfather, to give us a good count on how many of your men a little girl was actually capable of killing?" Joffery responded hatefully. He was wound tight, nerves firing feverishly, causing him to twitch unconsciously occasionally.

Tywin sat up to his full height and all around him he saw the counsel members squirm in their seats. "I am the one who commanded she be apprehended and, as such, all reports on that matter come directly to me. Just the same as the reports on Stannis, the other usurper I am fighting to protect your throne from while you sit in this tower being disrespectful and cowering because of a little girl."

Joffery looked ill at his grandfather's rebuttal. He was obviously fearful of the man but still wished to be treated as the King by him. That would not happen while he acted the way he was, throwing a temper tantrum. "If you know what happened then tell us now! What happened and should we be worried about this Stark attempting to reclaim the North?"

"Leave one wolf alive and none of the sheep are ever safe. She will always be a worry, a thorn in our side. It makes it that much worse she seems to be shaping up to be more of a trouble than her brother had been." Tyrion answered one question for his father. He knew as well as any of Tywin's children did that a Stark never backed down and never surrendered.

Lord Tywin took a sip from his goblet and rifled through some paperwork in front of him before he found the one he was searching for. He began to read from the report to the others in the room. "Six were sent to the ripest Peach in the woods to take the Wolf and none returned. Reports from witnesses say the the wolf had killed all of the men herself. She then tore off into the woods and celebrated with a thousand howling beasts. She emerged three days later from the forest, naked and riding on the back of a direwolf more fearsome than the one the Young Wolf had ridden on in battle."

"Her beast that attacked me!" Joffrey shivered, his voice trembling as he remembered the feeling of his arm in the mouth of the wolf, his blood pouring from the wound.

"Naked? Quite a scandal. Is she a witch, dancing naked beneath the moon with beasts and monsters?" Maester Pycelle added listlessly, his obvious distatest for the unladylike behaviors of the youngest Stark evident on his wrinkled features.

Tywin continued without acknowledging his grandson's or the old masters comments. "She rides with the Bastard Baratheon called the Bastard Knight and has been in his care sometime. Apparently, since she escaped the Red Keep." He gave his daughter a pointed look, and the Queen took another drink from her goblet. "They are both accompanied by the notorious Brothers Without Banners, which has grown to 300 strong, and are actively acting against Lannister law. We request reinforcements to deal with this significant threat to the crown." He finished reading and dropped the paper back to the table. He sat back in his seat and looked up at Joffrey with a bored and rather unpleasant expression.

"Well, we know that witnesses, especially peasants, sensationalize things to unrealistic degrees. How many men did she have with her at the Peach out of those 300?" Tyrion asked, trying to logically break down the tale to find the truth underneath. His youngest was definitely the most clever, or at least thought himself to be.

"None of them, apparently, even from intelligence reports, she was alone at the Peach when my men arrived." Tywin said as he passed the pile of papers to his least favorite child, allowing him to look them over.

"She's how old exactly? Ten?" Cersei's annoyed tone was calmer than her sons, though she was obviously worried as well, her hands messing with her wine glass restlessly.

"Twelve I believe this year, sister, based on my knowledge of her when we traveled to Winterfell." Tyrion said as he continued to breeze through the reports, openly paying more attention to the work at hand rather than the people surrounding him.

"How is she capable of defeating our soldiers?" Joffrey shouted, anxiety saturating his tone with high squeaks.

Tyrion laughed, a rich and rolling sound. "She defeated you when she was nine, didn't she nephew?"

"Through necessity she is able to kill. Any beast pushed into a corner can lash out with lucky snaps." Lord Tyrell said from his newly appointed seat.

Maester Pycelle nodded in agreement. "It is true that people are capable of extraordinary feet's in desperate times. But luck eventually runs out and inexperience wains to the more seasoned opponent."

Tywin Lannister chuckled. All eyes turned to the Hand, eyes wide. "Each of you, tell me what you know of this Stark girl." He indicated to the members of his council, already having spoken to Cersei and the King.

Lord Tyrell was closest to Tywin and assumed he was to answer first. Not wanting to disappoint the severe man to his left. "Truly I know little of the youngest of the Stark girls, only that she is wild as her late Aunt. Some say she is much more wild. The Northerners call it _Wolf's blood_ I believe." He answered truthfully. The girl was still a child and this of little interest to Lords with children needing to be wed sooner than four years.

Tywin nodded, accepting the response, appreciating the fact the Lord did not waste his time dancing around the subject with things he had no idea on, and tucking away the phrase _wolf_ _blood_. His cold green eyes, so like his twin children, turned to Lord Varys expectantly.

Varys looked around at the other members before taking a breath and adjusting himself slightly. "I must say Lord Hand, what I have heard of the girl is somewhat fanciful." he said in his airy voice.

"Go on."

"My little birds have whispered many things of the youngest Stark. They call her the Blood Child. Blood Wolf. She is supposed to be small, slight even for her years, but extremely deadly and skilled with a sword. Many say she died after the Red Wedding but Hell wouldn't receive her. Many say she is blessed by the Stranger, kissed by Death, to deliver justice to those that wronged her family. They say she has teeth sharper than they should be, and used them to rip out one of your scouts throats when he put his hands on her person." Tyrion's chuckle interrupted the Master of Whispers.

"It sounds as though she is her brother reborn. I assume she can transform into a wolf much the same he was said to be capable?" Tyrion smiled as he lifted his glass of wine and took a deep pull.

"Though it pains me to do so, I must say, I do agree with my brother on this. She is only a girl, not yet to even bleed." Cersei followed her brother and took a sip from her wine before returning it to the table and raising a brow skeptically at Varys.

"Indeed, it does seem hard to believe but there is more truth to these stories than the tales of Robb Stark. The number of bodies she has left behind is fact, not exaggeration." Varys replied.

"Varys is right about that. The girl is a tried killer. She killed three guards according to report, when she escaped Harrenhal, and another was never found. She is clever. She pretended to be common boy, then girl, and did very well, for a time." Tywin offered, dismissing both of his children's protest regarding the girl, before looking back to Varys, eyes like the lion of his sigil, sharp and focused. "What else have you heard?"

"That she has a pack of wolves that follows her through her travels. And that even though she is only a girl, the Bastard Knight is fully intent on marrying her. Some even say they are already betrothed." his eyes locked with Tywin's as he said his last piece, obviously looking for his reaction to the words.

"The Bastard King and his She Wolf Queen. Sounds delightful." Tyrion commented passingly.

"How are we even sure that this man is one of Robert's bastards?" Cersei spoke up from her father's right side, her green eyes locked on the rim of her goblet, anger burning brightly.

"The small folk tell tales of how he looks just as Robert did during the rebellion. A large man with eyes bluer than the sea and hair black as coals. He is supposed to be near six and ten and already taller than most men and strong as an ox." Maester Pycelle offered breathily.

"And a bastard still, not in any way capable of rallying the support of those common folk if he did not have the Stark with him." stated the Lord of Highgarden.

"I agree. There would be little support for him if his greatest alley and possible betrothed was taken from him. And that is what we're working toward." Tywin's voice held a command in it that told there was no discussion in the matter. "We will capture the girl and bring her here. He will come to save her, as his father attempted for his Stark girl before, and when he does he will die." Tywin's tone was easy, or as easy as it could be. He had hoped they wouldn't have any bastards to deal with but apparently anytime his daughter did anything she only did it half way.

"And how do you plan to capture this remarkable little girl who evades and bests your men?" came Cersei's soft voice, holding no edge. She had honeyed her voice just as her mother once had when she was sniping angrily but did not want to be seen as petty. Hiding behind their beauty.

He turned his gaze fully on her then, seeing something he had seen not that long ago in the scorched and melted walls of Harrenhal in the chilling eyes of a dirty Northern girl, cold defiance. "I had the pleasure of meeting Arya Stark. Did I mention that?" He began, tone steady as it always was. He sat back fully, resting his back against his chair, lightly gripping the arms. "She was going by some common name and had traveled with the Night's Watch, heading North before she had been captured by the Mountain's men and brought to Harrenhal with the rest. She had been disguised as a boy. All the simpletons surrounding me had boughten into her act, but I knew her for what she was. A scared and angry little girl. I made her my cup bearer and one day, I asked her what the North said about Robb Stark and she said they thought many silly things about the boy, but the silliest was they believed her could not be killed. I asked the girl if she thought that was true."

A small smile formed on his face then as he recalled the day. True, he perhaps should have guessed sooner as to who she was, and that was his fault. He also knew he would have to question Lord Baelish on how he did not recognize her there are Harrenhal when he had seen the girl a number of times enough to know her face. "She said to me, 'No my Lord, anyone can be killed.'"

A hush fell over the room as his words sank in on the wiser amongst him. His grandson was not included in that number, as he looked at Tywin with great animosity and perhaps disgust. "She had been there as your cup bearer and you let her escape?! And what does that ridiculous story have to do with how you intend to capture the blasted shrew?!" He screeched, his voice higher than he had intended.

The air seemed to become heavy in the small council chambers, as Tywin stared at Joffrey unmoving from his relaxed posture. "You misunderstand my father's tale nephew and do not see the reason he told us that about Arya Stark." Tyrion spoke up, attempting to clear the air.

Joffrey glared hatefully at the imp and spat, "Then enlighten me dear Uncle, what did the ridiculous story tell us of Arya Stark?"

"It means she understands what is at stake for her and her bastard boy, and will not take chances in losing the few people she has remaining. She is in the mentality one must be in to win war, and that is not something that is typical of the honorable North." Tyrion emphasized his point with a nod and took another drink of wine, savoring to relief the iced drink brought to his dry throat and mind. "This is kill or be killed your Grace. There will be no suing for peace, no buying surrender. She wants us all dead. And she will apparently do whatever it takes to see us that way. Including her own dirty work."

"Very good Tyrion. It also means that she has the ability to inspire those around her to do the same. She is of the birth for it and from my experience personally, extremely intelligent. She actually reminds me of how your mother once was, if I had not been there to curb her more masculine interests." Lord Tywin said, throwing a look at Cersei. "And you, daughter."

Cersei inhaled slowly and deeply, turning her eyes to her father's matching set. "Yes?" She asked cooly.

"As a woman on similar temperament and nobel standing, in this instance, what would you do?" He asked her seriously.

She was taken aback for a moment and then realized that he was not asking her as his daughter, merely needing insight into the mind of a woman, as he never had understood completely how they thought. She smiled, hiding the pain and self pity under the small pretty thing. It never reached her eyes though. "Father, Arya Stark was a wild beast when she left here. I could never presume to understand how such a savage would think."

"Think to when you were a twelve year old child and remember the anger you felt then." Tywin suddenly said and shocked the smile of Cersei's face. "Remember how angry you once were at how unfair the world is, that Jamie was allowed a sword, even Tyrion, but you never were? Remember that they received lessons on tracking and strategy while you had to go to dancing lessons and sew? How angry you had been then?" Tywin remembered the countless arguments with his daughter and each time she stomped away in her silk slippers, hiding in her room for days, until he would have her pulled from them and brought to dinner.

Cersei didn't smile again. Instead she glared openly at Tywin Lannister, sitting at the head of the tabel, the place that had been meant for her son. "If I had 300 men following me and a bastard bowing to my every whim?" She said acidly, allowing herself to feel the anger at her father and the injustice that this world afforded women like her, women of status. She was nothing but a broodmare, to be sold and traded. She was nothing to these men but a vessel in which their seed may grow. "I would burn the world down until I had what I wanted."

Twin smiled again and locked eyes with Joffrey, "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned dear grandson. Always remember that, if nothing else. There is nothing this child will not do to see our reign ended. And as such, we must be of the same mindset. We must be willing to make things so unbearable for the surrounding people, who hide them from our men, that they will give up the group rather than suffer the consequences."

Tyrion interrupted then, "Is it wise to torture the small folk over this matter? They are only 300 strong. We are thousands."

"The people must pay for their treason! Hiding bandits and outlaws is a crime Lord Tyrion." Maester Pycelle puffed haughtily from his seat.

"Indeed, but those bandits and outlaws are protecting them from Lannister men and, from what tales I have heard, feeding them. She is gaining the love of the people and that is dangerous."

"Again, very good Tyrion. How would you solve that problem?" Tywin asked smoothly, pouring himself a glass of water.

"I would paint the Starks to be witches. There is nothing more feared by the common than witchcraft and heresy against the faith of the seven. Rather than a woman fighting to her country, paint her as a demon who wants to take over the kingdoms. No man can handle the idea of a woman taking their power from them."

"I think she is doing a good enough job of painting herself as a witch. Riding on the back of a direwolf." Came Cersei's sharp words. "You need to take the boy. That is who she fights for, not the dead family."

All eyes turned to her then, questioningly. "Go on sweet sister, tell me then what we should do?"

She looked at each man in front of her and wanted to shake her head at their blindness. "Look at the animal world, we can use a shewolf, protecting her pack. What does the she wolf do when another wolf threatens her mate?" she asked and then patiently waited a moment for their response. "She puts herself between them, by blocking her wolfs neck with her body. Bears. Mother bears are more dangerous than male bears, two to three times their size. Why is that?" She didn't wait for a response this time, locking eyes with her father then. "Because they are protecting the thing they love more. Perhaps not love, but it is within their very design to protect them and to see them survival. She doesn't care about her life. She doesn't care if she will live. She only cares that he does. Take the boy and you will have the girl easy enough."

xoxox

 _Gendry_

He had searched through the night and finally stumbled upon her form, still and bare and cold. Her eyes were open and white as the clouds in the dimly lit morning sky, no familiar grey to be seen. Just the unbroken expanse of white, unseeing. He dropped to his knees beside her, thinking immediately the worst. He took his cloak and draped it over her, covering and trying to warm her blue tinged skin. "Arya! Arya, please!"

He heard the forest come to life around his as he clutched the tiny girl to him, trying to will her awake. He heard things running in the woods, large by their sound, but he couldn't look away from her face. The wind seemed to pick up all around him, chilling him to his very core. "Arya, please, Arya!" He said again, tears prickling in his eyes. He felt her then, moving slightly, breathing evenly. She was breathing. She was alive.

He sighed heavily and hugged her still form. Happy enough for the moment that she was indeed alive. Now he had to make sure that she stayed that way. He let his eye wander to the trees surrounding the two. All around him he heard paws connecting with the soft dirt, rustling dried dead leaves on the forest floor, stick snapped, popping in the early morning silence. Then he saw it, as it stepped forward from the trees. It stood right in front of him, a beast of a wolf, triple the size of any ordinary wolf. He knew who this had to be. This had to be the wolf that Arya lost so long ago, Nymeria.

He swallowed heavily, still holding Arya's tiny form in his arms protectively as all around him the rest appeared. They were much smaller, and even some had pups yipping and growling. He couldn't tell how many there were, he couldn't look away from the giant before him. It wa very rare that Gendry felt to be small, and standing before Nymeria, he felt it. "Nymeria, I am her friend." He said, quietly, calmly.

The wolf looked at him and turned it's head almost comically to the right and then the left. She looked like she understood him, not like she wanted to kill him. She approached, slowly, carefully, trying perhaps to not scare him. She let her head fall low as she walked toward him, smelling the air near the ground as she did so. Sooner than he would have liked she was right before, snout level with his face. He looked into the wolve eyes and saw recognition there. She whined lightly and let her cold nose brush his cheek lightly. He dared not breath in that moment. He was horrified. And the wolf must have known it.

The wolf then moved her attention to the girl in his arms. Gendry let his gaze follow the wolf's and let himself look at Arya again. The moment felt surreal, all these beasts around him but not attacking him. He could only think it was because of Nymeria. She held them back somehow. Perhaps this was her family now, just as he was Arya's. The girl still has eyes of white, looking as snow must, from how it had been described to him. He had never actually seen snow before in his life. Her skin was still pale but no longer held a blue tint, now just the color of the moon. She looked so fragile and so otherworldly like this. Her dark hair was ratted in snakes around her face and her full lips were parted slightly, as if she might have been trying to say something before whatever happened to her happened.

"Do you know what is wrong with her?" He whispered, helplessly to the wolf. It looked up at him again and he could have almost sworn that it nodded. His brow knitted in the way he knew Arya hated, and the wolf whined at the face. He tried not to laugh. Like mistress like wolf apparently. "Arya hates when I make that face too."

The wolf looked then back to Arya. She dropped her muzzle to the girls forehead and closed her great golden eyes. He felt it when it happened, whatever _it_ was. It was as if the very air around him shifted. He could have sworn there were whispers all around, but he couldn't make out what was being said. Then the howls began, the great chorus that had been haunting him and the rest of the surrounding area each night. The sound from afar was enough to send shivers through even brave men, but here, amongst it, so loud and all encompassing, he felt horrified. He didn't take a breath the entire chorus.

And then she moved.

He looked down again from the wolves, howling all around him, the loudest being the direwolf right in front of them, and saw as she shifted, eyes still white, then she blinked. When her eyes opened again, the grey iris had returned. He smiled so brightly down at her he was sure his face would split. "You're back." He said, not knowing what else to say. Her eyes met his and he saw something in them that hadn't been there before. Flecks of gold seemed to be scattered in her steel eyes, like daisies sprouting from the snow.

She smiled at him then, the fire she had for him earlier in anger seemed to be gone, smoldered in their time apart. "I am, it would seem. And here you are." Her voice was hoarse and scratchy. She coughed to clear it but only time and water would help her truly. "What are you doing here Gendry?"

He stopped for a moment and remembered why he was out here in the early morning light holding her tightly to him. "I- I wanted to find you and tell you how sorry I am Arya." He looked down then, not meeting her gaze, unable to bear looking at her. "I betrayed you again, and for no reason other than lack of thought. I don't have anything Arya, except for you. You are all I have and I swear to you that I will always keep you safe from now on." He said seriously, his heart laid bare to her.

She did something she rarely did ever then, she giggled. "Be careful Gendry, if you make a vow in front of a Heart Tree, the Gods will strike you down if it isn't true in your heart." She made a move to stand then and he helped her find her feet. She held the borrowed cloak tightly at the neck, keeping it fastened against the crisp air.

He then looked behind her to see what she meant by a Heart Tree. The wood was white as her eyes had been minutes earlier, and the leaves like blood. "This is a Heart Tree then?" He asked as he also stood and made his way carefully before the massive tree.

"It is, though the one's from my home all had faces carved into them by the Children. It is so the Gods can see us through the trees." She said as she followed him to the tree, not seeming to mind all the wolves around them. Several began approaching Arya as she made her way to him and the great tree. They licked at her hand and brushed against her legs and side, like they had known her a while. She would let her fingers slide through their fur as she passed, gently stroking the thick furs.

When she stood beside him, he turned his body from the tree and to her fully. He reached out and took her hand in his, feeling both his and her callouses rub against each other sent a shiver down his back. "I promise you I will not let it happen again Arya. I am with you. I don't know the words I am supposed to say or vows I am supposed to make, but no matter what I will fight with you forever." He said seriously, this time meeting her eyes.

He saw her smile then, a pretty thing that was far more rare than he liked. "You can try." She said finally, squeezing his hand gently. He knew she didn't mean what she had said to be cruel, but she did not know a time when she was safe. Truthfully, he could not remember the last time that he was safe. But together, they would find a way, the two of them. Always.

 **A/N: Hey, so sorry for the long absence. I will try to me much more regular in updating. I am going away for a few days on a business trio, so hopefully I'll have time to write then. I want to say thank you for all of the lovely reviews and follows/favorites. They are truly appreciated and aide in this process. If anyone has anything they want to see emphasised or added please feel free to let me know.**

 **Also, I hope the scene with the small council gives insight into what is coming in later chapters. There are some easter eggs hidden throughout this story. I try and emulate G.R.R. as far as the layering he seems to do within his work.**

 **Thank you all again!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine: Seasons Came and Changed the Time**

 _Lord Beric_

After Gendry had brought her back, naked, with only his cloak to protect her from the world, riding on the back of a great beast straight from a child's nightmare, Lord Beric could no longer think of the girl as a child. She looked almost ethereal in morning mist.

Thoros had fallen to his knees, praising the Lord of Light, at the sight of her, them, united at the light of dawn, looking like a song brought to life. The two seemed to glow in the early morning light, a golden color illuminating them. Behind them, hidden in the shadows of the thick forest were rows upon rows of barely visible wolves, completely hidden if not for their eyes, glowing as they reflected the light. He was not sure how many there were but to him it looked to be more than any person would want to have to meet.

"What is this Thoros? Witchcraft?!" He heard himself ask, voice barely more than a whisper. He never took his eyes off the two and the monster of a wolf as they slowly made their way to the group.

"It is the magic the Starks carry in their blood, my Lord. The blood of the First Men." Harwin answered unexpectedly from behind the two men, a mixture of fear and awe coating his voice. "It was said that the old Kings of Winter were fearsome, with great powers. Blessed by the Old Gods."

"Powers?" Gendry was helping the girl down, gently lifting the girl from the beasts back and placing her on her own bare feet. His fingers lingered on the girls arms.

"Aye. Skin changers, wargs, some were even said to be green seers, profits of sorts." Harwin expanded. Lord Berics eyes then connected with Arya's and what he saw there was enough to make him suck in air as if he had been struck.

There in that one look, he saw all of the wild that was kept at bay within her. He saw the blizzard that swirled inside her, the turmoil that threatened each day to overtake her. Those grey eyes said so many things without her mouth opening once.

Thoros placed a hand on the Lord's shoulder, concerned. With a wave of his hand he told Thoros he was fine. "What do they say of the Queens of the old North, Harwin?"

"The Lady's in the North are different than those in the South. In the Winter, they were even more different from one another. There was never a more fearsome Queen than one of Winter." Was his quick reply.

"How are they different? The two?"

"A Southern Queen looks at her people and sees her subjects, she expects to be worshiped and commands respect. A Northern Lady, or Queen I imagine, sees her people as her children and she is expected to protect them and care for them. In the winter most of all. So, tell me true Lord, which is more frightening to you?"

Thoros laughed beside him then. "Mother's will do anything to protect their children."

From that day on things had changed between the two. Lord Beric indulged Arya's interest in swordplay, combat and tactics, as well as many other untraditional things for a Lady of the Realm, or a Princess for that matter. He had conditions though, the most important was that he himself would be one of her instructors with the blade. He also insisted that Arya continued to learn certain "womanly things" as well. And lastly, she was to work with Thoros, to better understand her power over the wolves.

She argued and shouted and swore that no womanly arts were useful to her. She said she had no control over the wolves, she only was connected with Nymeria. The poor man wanted to scream in frustration. Eventually, Gendry convinced her to agree, but not without concessions of his own. Lord Beric finally agreed that she wouldn't be made to wear dresses on any occasion, only that she dress appropriately. And also Gendry had to have the same studies as her. She and Lord Beric agreed on this without even asking the boy properly.

Eventually, a routine began and time seemed to speed. Each day he trained with Arya and Gendry from sun up to mid morning. They drilled movements, Gendry focusing more on the basics while he had Arya do movements to build her strength. Both used practiced swords during this time. The first day Gendry had mentioned that Arya's training sword was much too heavy, being at least three times the weight that Needle was.

Arya smiled at him and said matter of factly, "When I first started training in Water Dancing, my dancing master made me use a similar sword. It was made of wood, not metal, but it was also much more heavy than Needle. I complained that it was heavy and I couldn't use one arm to wield it. He told me, 'It's as heavy as it needs to be to make me strong.' The sword will be fine, I will adapt."

After they practiced in the mornings, they would break their fasts with the other men, usually bread and cheese or whatever game that Anguy had shot over the past day or so. Then he would go about his business as the leader of the Brother's and left their royal wards in the capable hands of Thoros for their lessons. Beric knew he needed to find them an actual tutor but there was rarely an opportunity in the forests of the Riverlands.

At night, they would all gather again and he would hear of their studies that day. Oftentimes, one or the other needed scolding for something or another that went on, depending on the subject that Thoros decided to cover that day. Each day Gendry would practice both numbers and letters, basic etiquette and, between Lord Beric and Thoros, politics. Arya stayed with him through all of this, helping him when she could.

Both Arya and Gendry learned a great deal of history under the foreign priest. He taught them about the Knights and everything he knew of the different Houses of the Realm. He told them of his homeland and all the different places he had traveled on his way to Westeros. He told them of the Dothraki Screamers and the magic that still lived in Essos. With Lord Beric's help, the two schooled them often in battle tactics and movements.

After reviewing their studies or being scolded for not being good enough students for whatever the reason, they would all listen to stories while they ate. Lord Beric used this as an opportunity to begin preparing the two for the battle they did not even know they would be apart of yet. He and Thoros had seen no reason to tell the two of the threat of the Others that Thoros had seen in the flames just yet, there were too many worries on their young minds already. What would knowing change? So instead he told them stories, often of the Long Night or Azor Ahai. Gendry especially loved the tale of the hero blacksmith. Lord Beric thought fondly of the first time he told the tale.

"Darkness had fallen over the world, darker than any remembered it to have ever been. A man, a hero, was chosen, to fight against the all consuming darkness, but before the man could fight the darkness, Azor Ahai had to forge a hero's sword. He labored for thirty days and thirty nights, sweating and slaving in his forge. Finally, when he went to temper the blade in water, the sword broke."

Gendry had sucked a breath then, as if he had been struck. Arya had laughed at his reaction and this made the boy blush brightly, angrily grumbling that had she understood the frustration the man must have felt, she wouldn't be laughing.

"Well, he didn't give up. Instead he started over. This time though, he took fifty days and fifty nights to make the sword. The second sword was even finer than the first, truly a marvelous blade. To temper this blade, he captured a lion and drove the sword into its chest, and again the steel shattered."

"Careful, if it happens again I believe the boy may faint!" Anguy teased lightly and all around the group laughed good naturedly, nudging the boy who was already bigger than the archer himself. Gendry for his part looked every bit on the edge of fainting at the thought of Azor Ahai's struggles. Arya had discreetly grabbed his hand in silent support much to Lord Beric's surprise.

"The third time, with a heavy heart, for he knew beforehand what he must do to finish the blade, he worked for one hundred days and nights until the most perfect blade was finished. This time though, he called for no water nor any beast, instead he called for his wife, Nissa Nissa, and asked her to bare her breast. He drove his sword in her living heart. Her soul combined with the steel of the blade he had so carefully crafted, finishing the blade that was called Lightbringer, the Red Sword of Heros."

"There will come a day, after a long summer, when the stars bleed and the cold breath of darkness falls heavy on the world again. In this dread hour, a warrior shall draw from the fire a burning sword. That sword shall be Lightbringer, the Red Sword of Heroes, and he who clasps it shall be Azor Ahai come again, and the darkness shall flee once more before him."

"Well that is awful!" Arya had not liked the story the first time, nor anytime it had been told. She hated that Nissa Nissa was sacrificed, as if the sword was more important than her life. "They could have figured out a way to defeat the darkness together. And anyway, that isn't what ended the long night. The Last Hero did."

After a tale or two, though always before it was completely dark, Arya would take Needle from her belt and hand the tiny blade to Gendry. He would smile, trying to hide the worry in his eyes, and she would smile comfortingly. She would then walk away from the group and to the edge of woods where the beast Nymeria would be waiting for her patiently. Arya would climb on the great wolf's back and they would disappear with a harrold of howls into the trees.

The first night, Lord Beric had tried to stop her, but Thoros had laid a hand on Lord Beric's shoulder, shaking his head to tell him not to bother the girl. "Go ahead love. Be a wolf." Thoros had told her, and she nodded, and turned again to leave.

"What is the meaning of this Thoros? It is nearly dark, the woods are not safe." He had demanded, angry.

Thorso smiled wryly. "And she is on the back of the scariest monster in those woods my Lord. What does she have to fear?" He asked cheekily.

Lord Beric thought a moment before nodding, The man had a point. "But why risk it?"

The fire priests smile broadened. "Just as she has to bond with the boy and the men, make them love her and be loyal to her, she must also bond with the wolves. The best way to bond with a hound from what I've seen is through the hunt so this is what we thought would work best."

Beric looked back at the girl riding on the back of the direwolf as it trotted into the trees, disappearing into the darkness there. "She's to hunt with them, without bow or blade?"

Gendry unconsciously swiped his thumb over Needle's scabbard. "Well she has a dagger I made her. And besides, wolves don't use weapons."

"She'll be fine my Lord, worry not. Come, there is much more wine and warmth by the fire." Thoros said, leading the worried Lord back to the circle of men.

And so, she was fine.

It was late when she came back each night, and each night Gendry would greet her. He always waited up for her, often he occupied himself in the makeshift forge, sometimes with his letters or numbers. He would find something to do to busy himself until he heard the herald of howls announce her return to them, to him. She always returned, usually covered in mud, dirt and blood. The lad always cleaned her up with such tenderness and care and then the two would lay down by the fire together, out in the open under the stars.

She never said a word when she returned, instead always allowing Gendry, only Gendry, to care for her.

xoxoxo

 _Sansa_

Sansa cut the root carefully, making sure each chop was even. Her eyes wandered over all the variety if herbs stocked in that small kitchen. She knew all their names and uses now, how to prepare them properly, how to save them, keep them fresh and viable. She gently guided the blade through the ginger root, letting her mind wander aimlessly on the stories she had heard from the merchant on the road. He had told her there were wolves wandering about in the woods.

She remembered the true fear on his face as he told her of the wild wolf girl and her band of outlaws, wandering the woods, defying the crown by all means. Sansa had laughed, thinking the man to have been jesting her, telling stories to frighten a poor, simple girl, for that was definitely how she appeared to the fanciful man on horseback, walking with a baskets of plants and bare feet. She smiled at him good naturedly and with a wave she continued on her path back into the woods, where she had been staying for so long she had lost count of the days. She followed the now familiar, faint path that lead her to the hobble which had been her new home. She knew the wolves in these woods would never harm her.

It truly was a beautiful sight, though humble. In all the trees surrounding the tiny home, crystals hung, reflecting light and making the air seem to glow. In front of the home was a giant cast iron cauldron and a fire pit that was well used. The home itself was made into the side a small hill that lead the way to High Heart. The woods were alive with the Old Gods and weirwood trees were scattered sporadically throughout the deepest part of the dark woods. The air here reminded her of the air in the North, though not as cold, it held the hum of energy that she had never noticed until she traveled South and felt the absence for the first time.

 _The energy of the Gods, the Children and the spirits._ She recalled her recent teachings on what that humming was. She had learned a great deal that her Septon had never taught her here, in the woods. So long it felt she had been here, it felt like a new home. It was comfortable. It felt _safe_.

It was strange to her still sometimes, how safe she felt here of all places. There was barely enough room for the three of them in the little hole in the side of the hill, built up over time into a small little home and yet she felt as though she had all the room in the world. Once she would have thought that talk on the Old Gods and magic was something to sneer at, silly stories from a more savage time, when really it was insight to a much more ancient and natural knowledge. Her younger self would have called her a witch, and wrinkled her nose at the idea of something beyond the Seven. Arya would have loved it though.

She brought herself back to her task when the last of the ginger had been cut in a thin, nearly transparent sheet. The door banged open and signaled the return of Sandor and the old woman who had taken them in months and months passed. "I am telling you witch, she need not track down that sister. She is a dark one. More, we should focus on getting her home." Sandor grumbled as he removed his cloak and set the basket of goods they returned with on the table.

"There are more stories of Arya than?" Sansa asked sweetly and she went to the old woman and helped her remove her cloak and get comfortable in her favorite chair by the fire.

"She is near, sweetling. The dog thinks it best you stay hidden here, with me." The crone croaked and gently petted Sansa's sweet face. She was a small woman, shorter than Arya had been at nine, and with long white hair that trailed the ground. Her wrinkled eyes were red and full of wisdom hidden from the world.

"She is dangerous and travels with a lot of outlaws. You're damn right I think the Queen should remain safe and let me approach her sister." Sandor shouted angrily. He was always so protective of Sansa.

"She will have your head Sandor before you're allowed to speak." Sansa poured a cup of tea that had been stooping in an old teapot in preparation for their return. The nights were getting colder and it was always nice to warm up with a nice cup of tea.

"And what if she is all the things they say she is? What if she is a demon risen? You want me to let you go trotting up to her camp of bandits and wolves?" Sandor was angry now, face contorted more than it already was with his displeasure at the thought of letting her go alone to her sister.

Sansa laughed, a sound similar to bells, chiming brightly in the dim light of the small home. "She is not." The auburn beauty was sure.

"And how do you know? The things I have seen these last months majesty, have opened my eyes to what you alone are capable of. I remember Arya from the road. She was just a child but there was something dark in her eyes. Something that these gods you and this woman worship put in her. Something savage. She is a born killer. And the things they say of her..." He didn't finish his words, not wanting to upset his Queen.

The old woman spoke again finally, a smile spreading across her wrinkled face. "We could see her, if you wanted, before you run to find the wolf…" She trailed off, letting Sansa read into what she was saying.

Sansa smiled at her words, knowing she meant divination. Sandor looked to become paler when the crone mentioned of using magic. It had been an adjustment for him, after the old woman had saved them after he had fallen ill, when Sansa began to learn the old witch's crafting. But there was no denying that the girl was born to it, coming as naturally to her as flight did for a little song bird. It was changing her though, taking her from the innocent child she had been at the beginning of their quest, turning her into a dangerous woman. Though Cersei Lannister had done her part already to kill the innocent child in her.

"I will be stepping out for the evening if you are calling on the old gods." He said simply, before moving to stand outside the hobble, a skin of wine in hand.

When the door shut behind him Sansa turned eagerly to the old woman, nearly bursting. "I had so hoped you would suggest this. I have longed to see Arya since we heard word of her after the Lannister's were killed at that tavern to the South of here."

The woman looked at her questioningly. "Why have you not looked then? You have your ways, and you have been practicing, have you not?"

"No, I mean, yes, of course I have been practicing. I am just not able to perform something to advanced on my own, is all I had meant." Sansa stumbled carefully over her words and played with her long hair as she spoke with the woman before her.

The witch clucked through her teeth. "Child, you are more capable than you know, if only you would release the power within, rather than hold it down, so tight." She held out a hand for Sansa to sit and join her. Sansa did just that, lifting her skirt and making herself comfortable on the stool beside the woman's chair. "How shall we look my Queen?"

Xoxoxo

 _Tywin_

Tywin scowled again at the note in his hand. Again evaded, again an entire unit destroyed by the girl and her blasted wolves. For a year now she had evaded his capture since his discovery of her true identity. Each time he sent more and more forces and each time she had as many wolves as he did men. How many did she command? And how?

He had taken to looking into the thing the Northern people called 'wolves blood', seeing as she was doing things that should be impossible. She was commanding wolves the same way that the Targaryen's had commanded dragons. For the sake of the Gods, she even rode the biggest of them to battle. There must be something different about her that makes her able to command a beast as if she spoke it's language. His most hated child was aiding him in his quest to find some knowledge of the power the girl held over the animals, trying to find a way to end the connection. With the wolves surrounding her it was nearly impossible to get close, and especially impossible to actually take her.

In the time he had been looking into the history of the Stark family, which was very, very long, he had found out a great deal of things. They were the oldest house that still lived in Westeros. They were from North of where the Wall had been erected by none other than Bran the Builder, a Stark, and the first King of Winter. The Starks were the first, and only, Kings of Winter, and while the current holders of the name were honorable rulers of the Northern territory, there were many throughout their history who had been dangerous and bloodthirsty rulers. They had to be in order to unite to savage North against the threat of the Others. There were also a great many Queens of Winter, who had been more fierce than their male counterparts in many of the historical texts.

More than anything there was always a mystery shrouding certain portions of the Stark House rising to power. There was a time that was dark and very little had been recorded, but in that time, where history was not written, there were legends that told stories of Warg Kings and battle hardened maidens. There were giants and spiders as large as hounds in the tales, and women smothered their babes rather than see them live in a world so cold and cruel. But there were no facts to support any claims, not a single maester living in the North at that time.

He didn't like not understanding how this enemy would work. He didn't like fighting a girl that had hundreds of wolves at her command, wolves who did not fear running headfirst into battle. They seemed to live for the fight. Just as the girl did. He had heard report after report on her prowess with a blade, many claiming she rivaled Jamie Lannister in his best of times, before he lost his hand. She moved with the grace and poise of a predator and was unhindered by heavy armour, instead wearing some new design that was light and thin. She had never been defeated in battle, much like her brother before her, but unlike her brother the girl was a savage in her attack. None were left alive, save for one to tell the tale, and no prisoners were taken under her command. The one that was left, well they were never the same after the she wolf had them. She had a knack for war it would seem, more so than any man in her family had.

Suddenly a knock at the door to his chamber shook him from his musings. He frowned a little deeper, annoyed by the disturbance, before announcing that the person may enter. None other than Tyrion Lannister entered the chambers of the Hand. The man waddled in with that same arrogant smile that always graced his features. "Tyrion, to what do I owe this pleasure?" Hi voice indicated that this was no pleasure.

The imp grinned at his father as if he was the cat who had caught the mouse. "I think I have figured out a way to solve our problems with the blasted wolf girl."

Xoxoxo

 _Thoros_

Thoros watched as the two wrestled endlessly by the fire, Brother's surrounding them and taking bets on who would finally beat the little Princess. She was faster than any man there and the only one to come close to defeating her had been the Dayne boy, Beric's squire, just because he was also faster than most. Now, she had already taken Gendry's back and was working her way to his throat, ready to grab him about the neck and make the giant fall. Thoros smiled sadly as he watched the two and took a swig of his wine.

The fire was burning brightly now and soon Arya would be leaving to go with her wolves, a she did every night. Tomorrow they had planned a raid on a Lannister camp that she had found during one of her hunts. She and the wolves would check the camp once more tonight, to be sure there was no signs of them relocating and tomorrow they would all attack. "Shewolf! Let the boy be and come here, will you? Before you go, I have a favor to beg of a Princess." Thoros grinned as he spoke, showing all his teeth and his eyes crinkling pleasantly at the corners.

Arya stopped her assault on Gendry and looked to Thoros suspiciously. She raised her left eyebrow and narrowed her steely eyes at him until they looked to be barely open. "What do you want priest?" Her voice reflected her body language and the older man had to suppress a laugh at her mistrust. Obviously he had played one too many tricks on the Northern Princess.

Suspicious though she may have been she still slid down Gendry's back and let her feet once more land on the ground. She made her way to Thoros, and looked at him questioningly, waiting for his favor to be asked. He sat there quietly a moment, knowing that he was grinding on her nerves. She was nearly fourteen now and had been with them for nearly three years. She was like a niece he had never known and he treasured the moments that he could spend so candidly with the fierce girl.

"What will you have of me priest? Or were you just going to stare at me?" She ask good naturedly teasing him. She could see there was something bothering him. The girl was nothing if not perceptive. She had had to be growing up on the run he supposed.

He let his cheeky smile soften and regarded her truly. Nearly a woman grown now, she had blossomed under the Brother's watchful eyes. Not in the way normal Lady's or Princess's would, but in her own way, the Northern way. She was brave and compassionate, strong and cunning, and loyal. For all the good in her though there was a darkness there too, hidden, only coming out at night, with the Wolves of Winter, and when there was blood spilt. The beast was something older, something that was passed through her family, something that Thoros feared because he did not understand what it wanted.

"Little Wolf, will you tell us a story from the North on this night, colder than any we've yet to suffer?" he asked finally, wondering which tale she would choose give them.

She smiled brightly and nodded, moving to sit beside the priest. The girl had a knack for storytelling, always animated in her expressions as she relayed the tales. Her voice fluctuated to emphasis falls and leaps in the story, she would use her hands and move around them, almost as if a mummer putting on a show. He wondered if she had always been this way. "What story would you like?" she asked still smiling at him.

Gendry and Anguy made their way over to sit with the rest of their little group which was only a small part of the now thousand strong force of Brother's. "A scary story, something to send the lads running then!"

Arya thought a moment and then nodded, as if she had decided which story to tell the group. She took a sip of Thoros's wine, making a face and the sour taste. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, they looked at though she was looking through everyone there, remembering something from long ago. Thoros wondered for a moment if she was.

She licked her lips, and then spoke in a voice so cold he thought perhaps he had upset the child. "A scary story? But what do you know of fear? Fear is for the winter, when the snow falls a hundred feet deep. There is no sunlight, hidden in darkness for years and years. Babes are born and live and die, never seeing the sun's face. Even the direwolves are hungry in the winter, when the white walkers move through the woods."

A shiver ran through all around the fire, and it seemed that wind seemed to blow just that much colder. The night continued to creep in around them slowly, hiding their surroundings in shadows. "They were called the Others, and thousands and thousands of years ago, they brought with them a winter that was so cold and hard and dark that it seemed endless. There came a night that lasted an entire generation. Nobel and poor froze to death in their homes, for winter knows no class. Mother's were said to smother their children to save them from a life starving and when they cried, the tears froze to their cheeks."

"The Others were cold things, dead things. They ravaged the land, no town, castle or holdfast could withstand them. And with every army that fell, they raised those dead to fight for them. They had no pity for any, be they woman or child, and all that were caught in their path were killed savagely. My Nan even said that they fed the children to their undead slaves." The leaves began to rustled the leaves in the trees and the noise made everyone feel even more uneasy.

"They hated iron, fire and the light of the sun. Eventually, the Last Hero was able to beat the Other's back, but not before losing all of his friends and his beloved dog while seeking out the Children of the Forest to use their magic against these dark Others. No one knows how they pushed them back, but one thing is known for sure."

Her eyes almost seemed to glow in the fire then, just as her wolves eyes would in the dim light. Her voice raspy and hushed, as if not wishing to speak what she was to say into existence. "The Other's were only defeated, not destroyed, and one day they will return, riding pale horses that have been dead for years, with an army of undead soldiers at their command, and Westeros will once again have a Long Night."

A chorus of howls punctuated the end of her tale, almost as if the wolves were agreeing with their mistress.

 **A/N: So we're getting into a flow again with posting. Not as bad this time. I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter. I know it may seemed rushed but more that anything I wanted to move past the boring day to day grind that had to set in for sometime. Lord Beric is progressing well too, in my opinion. Not a lot from Gendry this chapter I know but do not worry, there is much more to come.**

 **Sansa made a brief appearance this chapter. I know I am not focusing on her as much as Arya, but she will become a much bigger character in upcoming chapters. Sansa becoming a witch's apprentice was supposed to be a bit of a shock. So, she is the only one that never embraced her blood as far as practices within the old ways of the North. Witches weren't common but they were more common than in the South. And while in both areas they are feared, they are more respected in the North as they practice the old ways.**

 **I'm sure everyone noticed I had two stories in this chapter about the Long Night. Both have different stories but each one holds heavy sacrifices that had to be made in order to defeat the Others. Both of those I did not make up and instead got from various works of G.R.R.M. There will be many references to the world he built and I will do my best to work within the history of it as well. There will be several other old stories from the North in this story in the upcoming chapters as each one reveals something towards the main plot.**

 **What is Tyrion's plan I wonder? And will it work?**

 **Please leave a review and let me know what you think. They honestly help and are always so appreciated!**


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